/ 


X* 


'"If  you  could  prove  relationship— '" 
The  Merrivale  Will.  Page  3T 


THE   AUTHOR   OF 

"Old  Bristol,"  "  The  Family  of  (he  Black  Forest," 
"/«  Colonial  Days,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

AMERICAN  BAPTIST  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY 
1420  Chestnut  Street 


Copyright  1896  by  the 
AMERICAN  BAPTIST  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY 


tfromtbe  Society '0  own  press 


CONTENTS 


I.  THE  FIRST  ALARM, 5 

II.  TELLING  BERTHA, 20 

III.  MORTIMER  FINDS  IT  TRUE, 28 

IV.  THE  LAWYER  IN  COLORADO, 36 

V.  To  ASK  STRANGERS  HERE, 52 

VI.  MRS.  WINSTEAD'S  DECISION, 66 

VII.  PLANS  AND  PERVERSENESS, 76 

VIII.  THE  ARRIVAL  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  BRANT,     .     .     85 

IX.  HAMILTON,  MINING  AGENT, 95 

X.  MORTIMER  MAKES  A  LOAN, 102 

XI.  AN  ACCIDENT  AT  BRIARLEY, no 

XII.  MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK, 119 

XIII.  BERTHA  AS  ADVISER, 137 

XIV.  MISSING  MONEY, 147 

XV.  "WE  ARE  COUSINS," 159 

XVI.  JACK  GIVES  A  CLUE, 168 

3 


4  CONTENTS 

XVII.  How  MRS.  BRANT  MET  INSINUATIONS,      .     .     .  178 

XVIII.  HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES, 188 

XIX.  HAMILTON'S  MISCHIEF-MAKING, 198 

XX.  MORE  MYSTERY, 207 

XXI.  MORTIMER  FINDS  A  HELPER, 215 

XXII.  FOLLOWING  THE  CLUE, 221 

XXIII.  BERTHA  TRIES  TO  HELP, 230 

XXIV.  MERRIVALE  FARMHOUSE  ROBBED, 245 

XXV.  MARK  WILLOUGHBY  MARRIED, 255 

XXVI.  A  STORY  FROM  THE  PAST, 271 

XXVII.  THE  MISSED  TRAIN, 282 

XXVIII.  MARK  DEFENDS  MORTIMER 291 

XXIX.  THE  REAL  CULPRIT  CONFESSES, 303 

XXX.  MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS, 314 

XXXI.  FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL, 336 

XXXII.  THE  CLAIM  ON  MERRIVALE  SETTLED,  ....  348 


THE  MERRIVALE  WILL 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    FIRST   ALARM 

A  COLD  gray  sky  stretched  monotonous  and  dull  over 
bare  brown  fields  and  leafless  woods  as  the  train  from 
Harriton  came  rattling  up  to  the  little  station  of  Briarley. 
It  was  already  nearly  twilight  of  the  short  November  day, 
and  the  still  penetrating  cold  in  the  air  threatened  snow  as 
surely  as  did  the  cloudy  sky. 

' '  Now  really,  it  is  so  long  since  I  have  been  out  here 
that  I  am  not  quite  sure  whether  I  know  my  way,"  mut- 
tered an  elderly  gentleman  who  had  just  descended  from  the 
tram. 

He  peered  about  him  a  moment  and  noticed  that  only  two 
people  besides  himself  had  stopped  at  Briarley,  one  of  whom 
was  a  tall  and  rather  portly  gentleman,  and  the  other  a  lad 
of  about  eighteen.  Both  of  them  were  evidently  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  place,  and  the  old  gentleman  followed 
them  as  they  walked  briskly  around  the  platform  to  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  neat  little  station.  There  a  handsome 
carriage  was  waiting,  into  which  the  gentleman  sprang  and 
was  rapidly  driven  off.  The  lad  glanced  about  him  before 
following  the  direction  that  the  carriage  had  taken  ;  but  it 
was  curiosity  rather  than  indecision  that  prompted  his 
delay,  for  he  was  watching  the  old  gentleman. 

5 


6  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

' '  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  ;  are  you  looking  for  some  one  ? ' ' 
he  asked,  as  the  latter  approached  him. 

"I  am  trying  to  remember  which  is  the  shortest  way  to 
Merrivale  farmhouse,"  said  the  old  gentleman  in  quick,  de- 
cided tones. 

"  I  am  just  going  there.      It  is  my  home,"  said  the  lad. 

"Oh,  ho  !  so  you  are  Mortimer  Winstead.  I  should  not 
have  known  you,"  remarked  thet)ld  gentleman.  "Well,  I 
am  Mr.  Lindsay,  and  I  have  come  out  to  see  your  mother  ; 
so  I  will  walk  to  Merrivale  with  you.  Is  it  far  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  a  very  short  distance,"  replied  the  lad.  "I 
knew  mother  was  expecting  you  and  that  is  why  I  was 
watching  you,  Mr.  Lindsay.  I  hope  you  did  not  think  me 
rude,"  for  the  manner  of  his  companion  was  so  abrupt  that 
Mortimer  Winstead  hardly  knew  what  to  think. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  not  a  bit  of  it,"  responded  Mr.  Lind- 
say. "You  are  coming  home  from  school,  I  suppose." 

"No,"  replied  Mortimer,  "I  am  coming  from  the  office. 
I  am  in  Palmer  &  Davenant's  office.  I  am  too  old  to  be 
dependent  on  mother  when  she  has  the  girls  and  John  to 
support"  He  spoke  with  a  tone  of  offended  pride  that 
Mr.  Lindsay  was  quick  to  notice. 

"Well,  well,  that  is  right  So  you  are  earning  some- 
thing. So  much  the  better.  But  there  are  such  a  lot  of 
lazy  fellows  about  now  who  can' t  earn  their  salt,  how  was 
I  to  know  but  you  were  one  of  that  sort  ?  I  have  not  seen 
you  since  you  were  ten  or  twelve  years  old." 

The  old  gentleman  spoke  so  testily  that  Mortimer  felt 
inclined  to  laugh  and  replied:  "Of  course,  sir,  you  could 
not  tell  ;  and  in  fact  mother  wanted  me  to  go  on  studying  ; 
but  Jack  is  the  bright  one,  and  he  is  the  one  who  ought  to 
go  to  college.  I  told  mother  that  I  wanted  to  go  to  work, 
as  it  was  only  right  that  the  eldest  should." 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  7 

"The  eldest?  I  thought  the  eldest  was  a  girl,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay  quickly. 

' '  Oh,  yes,  Bertha  is  a  year  and  a  half  older  than  I  am  ; 
but  she  is  not  the  one  to  work  when  I  am  a  great  strong 
fellow,"  said  Mortimer,  stretching  up  his  tall  figure  and 
looking  down  with  a  good-humored  smile  upon  his  com- 
panion, who  was  small  and  wiry. 

Mr.  Lindsay  only  grunted  in  reply,  and  then  exclaimed  : 

' '  Ah,  I  see  my  way  now.  We  are  coming  to  the  turn- 
pike and  there  is  the  farmhouse  among  those  trees  to  the 
right.  The  station  used  to  be  over  there,"  and  he  pointed 
to  a  spot  a  little  distance  farther  down  the  railroad. 

"Yes,  but  it  was  moved  years  ago,"  answered  Mortimer. 
"I  don't  remember  the  exact  date,  but  it  was  before  Aunt 
Jessica  died,  and  before  we  came  to  live  at  Merrivale." 

Mr.  Lindsay  nodded  and  they  pursued  their  way  in  si- 
lence till  they  came  to  a  small  gate  opening  on  a  bricked 
path  that  led  up  to  the  little  porch  at  the  front  door  of  the 
farmhouse.  Lights  were  already  shining  from  the  windows, 
sending  a  cheerful  gleam  out  into  the  rapidly  gathering 
dusk,  and  as  Mortimer  opened  the  door  a  merry  hum  of 
voices  floated  out  and  two  girls  came  running  to  meet  him. 

The  younger  was  a  plump,  healthy-looking  little  lass  of 
ten,  with  bright  brown  eyes.  The  elder  was  at  the  awkward 
age  of  fifteen  ;  her  face  was  too  thin  and  sallow  to  have  any  pre- 
tensions to  prettiness,  and  her  eyes,  which  might  have  been 
fine,  had  the  strained,  peering  expression  that  often  charac- 
terizes short-sighted  people  who  have  not  learned  their  need 
of  glasses.  The  mouth  and  chin  were  more  indicative  of 
decision  than  of  beauty,  and  the  hair,  which  was  brushed 
plainly  back  and  hung  in  two  braids  down  her  back,  did 
nothing  to  soften  or  set  off  her  features. 

"These  are  my  sisters,  Jessica  and  Helen,"  said  Morti- 


8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

mer.      "Helen,  run  and  tell  mother  that  Mr.  Lindsay  has 
just  come  out  from  town." 

The  little  girl  ran  away  toward  the  back  of  the  house, 
and  the  older  one  opened  the  door  of  the  parlor.  A  ripple 
of  music  trilled  out  into  the  dimly  lighted  hall,  followed  by 
a  few  stately  chords  and  then  a  succession  of  brilliant  runs. 

"Somebody  is  playing  in  there  who  has  good  mastery  of 
the  piano,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay  to  Mortimer,  as  he  divested 
himself  of  his  overcoat  and  hung  it  up. 

"It  is  Bertha  practising,"  replied  Mortimer;  but  as  he 
spoke  the  music  sank  into  a  sweet  and  plaintive  melody. 

"Wait,  we  will  hear  it  through  before  we  disturb  her," 
said  Mr.  Lindsay,  laying  his  hand  on  Mortimer's  arm. 

Now  that  he  had  taken  off  his  hat,  Mortimer  could  get  a 
better  look  at  him,  and  he  saw  a  thin  face  with  keen  eyes 
and  a  prominent  hooked  nose.  Short  gray  whiskers  ex- 
tended half-way  down  the  cheeks,  and  the  rest  was  clean- 
shaven. The  iron-gray  hair  was  carefully  brushed  so  as  to 
conceal  as  much  as  possible  a  suspicious  thinness  on  the 
crown  of  the  head,  and  everything,  from  the  irreproachable 
black  suit  to  the  well  kept  finger  nails,  bespoke  scrupulous 
attention  to  personal  appearance. 

Mortimer' s  meditations  and  Bertha' s  music  were  broken  in 
upon  by  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Winstead,  a  delicate  little 
woman  of  scarcely  more  than  forty  years.  Her  smooth 
brown  hair,  pleasant  smile,  and  kindly  eyes,  gave  usually  a 
placid  expression  to  her  face,  although  it  was  worn  and 
thin  ;  but  to-night  there  was  an  anxious  look  in  her  eyes, 
and  the  smile  flickered  and  disappeared  as  soon  as  the 
greeting  with  Mr.  Lindsay  was  over. 

"It  is  very  kind  ot  you  to  take  this  trouble,  Mr.  Lind- 
say," she  said,  leading  the  way  into  the  parlor.  "Where 
is  your  satchel  ?  You  will  stay  till  to-morrow,  surely. ' ' 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  9 

"No,  no,  my  dear  madam e,  that  is  impossible.  I  must 
return  by  the  nine  o'clock  train  to  Harriton  ;  but  that  will 
give  plenty  of  time  for  all  there  is  to  say." 

"Bertha,  dear,  run  tell  Jane  that  we  are  ready  for  tea  at 
once,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  as  the  young  girl  rose  from  the 
piano  and  silently  shook  hands  with  the  old  gentleman. 

"I  am  sorry  that  the  music  was  interrupted,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay  with  a  courteous  tone  that  was  a  contrast  to  his 
manner  of  addressing  Mortimer.  "You  are  a  very  good 
musician,  Miss  Bertha."  His  keen  eyes  seemed  to  be 
noting  every  detail  of  the  pretty  girlish  figure  in  its  perfectly 
fitting  dark  blue  dress. 

Bertha  Winstead  was  conceded  to  be  both  the  beauty  and 
the  genius  of  the  family,  and  now  a  delicate  flush  heightened 
the  transparency  of  her  clear  complexion,  her  gray  eyes 
were  glowing  with  the  enthusiasm  that  music  always  inspired 
in  her,  and  her  small,  shapely  head,  with  its  coil  of  fair  hair, 
was  held  a  little  more  erect  than  usual.  She  bowed,  and  the 
flush  deepened  a  little  in  her  cheeks  at  the  compliment  ; 
then  she  left  the  room  very  composedly  to  take  her  mother' s 
message. 

Mortimer  and  Jessica  had  disappeared,  and  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  as  soon  as  they  were  alone,  said  in  a  trembling  tone  : 

"Is  it  something  very  bad  that  you  have  to  tell  me  ?  Is 
it  some  failure  that  will  cut  down  our  income?" 

"No,  my  dear  madame,  there  is  no  failure,"  replied  Mr. 
Lindsay  in  his  brisk  way.  "Don't  distress  yourself  now  ; 
we  can  talk  over  everything  quietly  after  tea.  That  oldest 
boy  of  yours  is  a  fine  fellow,  or  I  am  much  mistaken ;  and 
as  for  Miss  Bertha,  she  has  grown  up  as  I  imagined  she 
would,  to  be  a  lovely  creature  ;  but  I  did  not  foresee  that 
she  would  be  such  an  excellent  musician. ' ' 

"She   has   inherited   her  dear   father's   talent,"  replied 


IO  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mrs.  Winstead,  ' '  and  I  have  tried  to  have  her  well  taught 
As  for  Mortimer,  he  is  no  genius,  dear  boy  ;  but  he  is  very 
good  and  plodding,  and  reminds  me  of  my  poor  father. 
But  I  hope  he  will  have  better  success  than  his  grandfather." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "  But  you  must  remem- 
ber  that  your  father  was  hampered  by  his  brothers.  Old 
Mr.  Merrivale  did  really  more  than  he  ought  to  have  done 
for  his  older  sons  and  your  father  had  to  shift  for  himself. ' ' 

'  •  I  know  Aunt  Jessica  felt  that,  and  I  think  that  she 
wanted  to  make  it  up  to  me  and  my  children,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead. 

The  lawyer  coughed  discreetly,  and  the  announcement 
that  tea  was  ready  broke  off  the  conversation. 

In  the  dining  room,  Mr.  Lindsay  met  Jack,  the  brother 
of  whom  Mortimer  had  spoken  as  the  bright  one.  He  was 
a  fine,  frank-faced  boy  of  twelve  and,  although  just  now  on 
his  good  behaviour,  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  he  could 
brim  over  with  mischief  and  fun. 

"Not  a  bad  sort  of  chap,"  thought  the  little  lawyer  ; 
"but  he  needs  to  be  brought  up  by  a  man.  He  will  be 
utterly  spoiled  if  he  is  left  to  that  gentle  little  mother  of  his, 
for  he  will  have  his  own  way  in  everything.  But  I  doubt  if 
his  father  would  have  been  much  better. ' ' 

The  daughter  of  Mortimer  Merrivale  was  thought  by  her 
friends  to  have  made  a  very  good  match  when  she  married 
John  Winstead.  Her  father  had  only  a  modest  clerkship 
to  depend  upon  for  the  support  of  his  family  ;  but  Mr. 
Winstead' s  father  had  left  a  very  respectable  little  property 
to  his  son.  The  young  man  was  an  only  child  and,  as  he 
was  steady  and  quiet,  all  looked  promising  for  the  young 
couple.  He  had  no  remarkable  talent  for  anything  but 
music,  and  that  sometimes  led  him  into  small  extravagances, 
but  as  long  as  his  wife' s  father  lived  all  went  well  with  them. 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  I  I 

After  the  death  of  Mortimer  Merrivale  it  became  evident 
whence  the  prudence  of  the  little  household  had  been 
derived.  John  Winstead,  in  a  bad  hour  for  himself,  fell  in 
with  speculators  and  began  to  try  to  increase  his  capital  in 
ventures  that  were  beyond  both  his  means  and  his  compre- 
hension. 

Losses  soon  followed,  and  there  came  a  time  when  his 
wife  had  to  look  longingly  at  every  penny  before  she  spent 
it,  and  to  think  with  dread  of  the  first  of  each  month,  when 
bills  were  rendered  with  a  suspicious  promptness  that  clearly 
indicated  the  state  of  Mr.  Winstead' s  credit.  At  last  an 
engagement  as  organist  of  a  church  in  Harriton  at  a  thou- 
sand a  year  was  offered  to  him,  and  affairs  began  to  assume 
a  brighter  aspect  But  the  spirit  of  imprudence  clung  to 
him;  having  nothing  but  his  health  left  to  risk,  he  risked 
that  by  loitering  in  a  damp  church  porch  one  chilly  evening 
after  playing  for  a  wedding  in  the  overheated  organ  loft 
A  heavy  cold  was  followed  by  acute  pneumonia,  and  in 
less  than  a  fortnight  Mrs.  Winstead  found  herself  a  widow 
with  five  children,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  only  twelve 
years  old,  dependent  on  her. 

It  was  not  surprising  that  Mr.  Lindsay  had  no  very  high 
opinion  of  the  ability  of  the  late  Mr.  Winstead  to  train  up 
a  bright  and  high-spirited  lad  like  his  younger  son. 

During  tea  time  Jack' s  studies  were  spoken  of,  and  Mr. 
Lindsay  inquired  what  progress  he  was  making. 

"  He  does  well,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  with  a  smile  ;  "but 
we  hardly  think  that  he  does  as  well  as  he  can." 

"Mother  helps  me  with  Latin,"  put  in  Jack.  "Not  that 
she  knows  such  a  lot  for  she  has  to  hunt  things  up  as  she 
goes  along,"  he  added  with  a  superior  air;  "but  then  it 
isn'  t  such  an  awful  grind  when  one  has  somebody  to  study 
with  one." 


12  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"I  am  trying  to  get  Jack  far  enough  advanced  to  enter  the 
Harriton  Academy  after  Christmas.  I  want  one  of  my 
boys  to  go  through  college,  and  I  am  helping  as  much  as  I 
can  to  keep  up  his  ambition." 

"Well,  well,  he  has  time  enough,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay 
puckering  his  brows.  ' '  And  are  you  Miss  Bertha' s  music 
teacher,  Mrs.  Winstead  ? ' ' 

"Not  at  present,"  replied  the  little  lady  quietly.  "I 
taught  her  until  I  found  that  she  was  well  enough  advanced 
to  need  a  more  thorough  and  experienced  teacher,  and  she 
has  been  for  two  years  taking  lessons  of  Professor  Lubeck  in 
Harriton." 

Mr.  Lindsay  cast  a  scrutinizing  glance  at  Bertha,  who  sat 
dainty  and  composed,  opposite  to  him.  Beside  her  sat 
Jessica,  whose  careless  attire  and  rather  plain,  good-humored 
face  formed  a  strong  contrast  to  the  appearance  of  her  beau- 
tiful sister.  But  Jessica's  face  evidently  attracted  Mr.  Lind- 
say, for  his  eyes  reverted  to  her  and  he  made  several  attempts 
to  draw  her  into  conversation.  Jessica  answered  sensibly 
and  pleasantly,  but  it  was  plain  that  she  considered  her  place 
to  be  in  the  background,  for  she  quickly  let  the  conversation 
slip  over  to  Bertha,  who  maintained  her  share  with  the  quiet 
self-possession  of  one  who  was  undisputed  leader. 

As  soon  as  tea  was  over,  Mrs.  Winstead  led  the  way  to 
the  parlor,  and  the  children  disappeared  to  a  little  school- 
room that  opened  out  of  the  dining  room.  Mrs.  Winstead 
had  apparently  completely  recovered  her  usual  cheerful  pla- 
cidity as  she  seated  herself  beside  a  little  work-table,  and 
waited  for  Mr.  Lindsay  to  open  the  subject  which  had  been 
the  cause  of  his  visit  The  lawyer  was  the  one  who  hesi- 
tated; but  after  one  or  two  preliminary  coughs,  he  asked: 

"  Do  you  remember  the  terms  of  the  will  of  your  aunt, 
Miss  Jessica  Merrivale  ?" 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  13 

"I  do  not  remember  all,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead  ;  "but 
I  know  that  she  left  Merrivale  and  the  rest  of  the  property 
that  she  inherited  from  my  grandfather  to  my  father  and  his 
heirs.  It  was  the  greatest  blessing  to  me,  as  I  do  not  know 
what  I  could  have  done  otherwise  to  support  myself  and  the 
children. ' ' 

"H'm,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay,  flicking  an  invisible  speck 
off  his  coat  sleeve.  ' '  I  was  afraid  that  you  did  not  bear  in 
mind  the  exact  disposition  of  the  property  according  to  that 
will,  and  that  is  why  I  thought  it  better  to  come  out  and  see 
you.  Miss  Merrivale,  contrary  to  my  advice  let  me  add, 
left  the  property  to  her  three  brothers,  share  and  share  alike, 
or  to  their  heirs. ' ' 

"Oh,  but  that  made  no  difference,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Winstead.  ' '  I  remember  now  that  it  was  left  as  you  say  ; 
but  you  explained  to  me  that  as  Uncle  Felix  died  unmarried 
soon  after  he  went  West,  his  brothers  were  his  heirs  ;  and 
then,  as  Uncle  Ralph's  wife  and  children  all  died  before 
him,  and  he  himself  died  a  week  before  Aunt  Jessica's 
death,  my  father  was  the  only  one  who  left  any  heir." 

"That  is  what  we  supposed,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay;  "but  I 
have  just  learned  that  your  uncle,  Mr.  Felix  Merrivale,  was 
not  unmarried  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He  had  been 
married  some  time  before  the  accident  occurred  which  caused 
his  death,  and  a  child  was  born  about  six  months  after  that 
accident. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  sat  looking  at  the  lawyer  in  blank  astonish- 
ment ;  then  the  meaning  of  what  he  said  seemed  suddenly 
to  flash  upon  her.  Her  face  suddenly  flushed  and  as  quickly 
grew  very  pale. 

"A  child  of  Uncle  Felix!"  she  exclaimed.  "Then 
that  child  had  as  much  claim  as  I  to  Aunt  Jessica's  property; 
but  is  it  living  ? ' '  she  added  eagerly. 


14  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"That  is  what  is  claimed,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay.  "I 
have  received  letters  from  parties  who  claim  that  Felix  Mer- 
rivale'  s  lawful  heir  is  living  and  ready  to  institute  proceed- 
ings to  recover  his  share  of  the  property. ' ' 

"And  that  share?"  asked  Mrs.  Winstead  in  a  trembling 
voice. 

"Would  be  one  half,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay,  examining 
minutely  an  imaginary  break  in  the  nail  of  his  little  finger, 
in  order  to  avoid  watching  the  misery  in  her  face. 

"Then  I  and  my  children  are  ruined,"  she  cried  impetu- 
ously. ' '  Oh,  how  can  God  permit  it  ?  I  have  tried  so  hard 
to  bring  them  up  right  But  what  does  any  one  know  of  this 
stranger  ?  My  father  was  good  and  honest  and  steady, 
while  Uncle  Felix  was  reckless  and  wild.  Aunt  Jessica 
has  told  me  that  the  first  land  that  was  ever  sold  from  the 
fine  old  Merrivale  farm  had  to  be  sacrificed  to  pay  debts  for 
Uncle  Felix  ;  and  then  it  went  on,  first  Uncle  Felix  and 
then  Uncle  Ralph  writing  to  my  grandfather  for  money,  until 
nothing  was  left  but  the  farmhouse  and  the  small  income 
that  belonged  to  Aunt  Jessica.  Oh,  it  is  too  hard,  too  hard  ! ' ' 

She  sat  with  her  hands  tightly  pressed  together  in  her  lap 
and  her  eyes  looking  mournfully  straight  before  her,  but 
really  seeing  nothing  in  the  room,  for  she  was  gazing  at  the 
mental  picture  of  wrecked  hopes  and  plans  :  the  safe  and 
happy  home  and  musical  advantages  for  her  beautiful,  tal- 
ented Bertha,  and  the  college  education  for  Jack,  vanishing 
like  a  dream;  all  the  pleasures  and  advantages  that  the  older 
children  had  already  enjoyed,  snatched  from  the  lips  of 
bright-faced  Helen,  whose  education  was  only  beginning; 
Mortimer  condemned  to  the  endlessly  dull  and  plodding 
routine  of  office  work.  A  sudden  sob  recalled  her  to  the  ac- 
tual scene  before  her,  and  she  bit  her  lips  to  recover  her  self- 
control. 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  1 5 

Mr.  Lindsay  was  carefully,  with  finger  and  thumb,  draw- 
ing a  loose  hair  from  the  lashes  of  his  left  eye,  and  after  he 
had  coughed  once  or  twice  the  right  eye  apparently  required 
the  same  attention  ;  then  he  began  with  a  cheerful  briskness 
that  was  more  of  a  relief  to  his  own  feelings  than  any  en- 
couragement to  Mrs.  Winstead: 

' '  Come,  my  dear  madame,  we  really  must  not  take  the 
most  despondent  view.  Of  course  these  claims  must  be  ex- 
amined into.  Nothing  can  be  done  hurriedly  or  rashly.  I 
very  much  regret  that  Miss  Merrivale  would  not  take  my 
advice.  I  told  her,  '  Your  older  brothers  have  already  made 
ducks  and  drakes  of  more  than  their  share  of  the  original 
property;  the  rest  belongs,  properly  speaking,  to  Mr.  Mor- 
timer Merrivale.'  But  she  had  very  strict  ideas  of  her  own, 
and  she  said  that  it  would  only  make  ill  blood  between 
brothers  to  discriminate,  and  as  she  supposed  that  Mr. 
Winstead  was  well  off  and  as  she  judged  from  his  letters 
that  Mr.  Ralph  was  not  very  prosperous  financially  and  she 
knew  that  he  was  in  ill  health,  of  course  it  seemed  to  her 
better  to  let  the  original  disposition  of  the  property  stand 
after  the  death  of  Mr.  Felix  Merrivale." 

While  he  was  speaking  Mrs.  Winstead  had  been  rapidly 
collecting  her  thoughts,  and  the  look  of  distress  faded  from 
her  face.  Now  she  said  very  gently: 

' '  Pray  think  no  more  of  my  words,  Mr.  Lindsay.  God 
has  been  very  good  to  me  thus  far,  and  I  can  safely  trust 
my  own  and  my  children's  future  to  his  care." 

"Ahem,"  said  the  lawyer,  as  he  shifted  his  position  a 
little  uneasily.  • '  You  are  wise  to  take  the  matter  with  com- 
posure ;  and  I  can  assure  you,  Mrs.  Winstead,  that  although 
the  copies  of  papers  forwarded  to  me  look  perfectly  cor- 
rect, I  shall  sift  all  the  evidence  most  thoroughly  before  ad- 
mitting this  claim.  In  most  cases  I  found  Miss  Merrivale 


1 6  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

singularly  clear-headed  and  with  a  keen  sense  of  justice  ;  but 
in  this  case  I  could  not  bring  her  to  see  that  when  two  out 
of  four  heirs  have  squandered  in  their  father' s  lifetime  more 
than  half  the  estate,  they  are  not  in  justice  entitled  to  a 
share  in  the  remaining  half.  This  child  may  be  a  worthless 
character  and  we  know  nothing  about  the  mother.  Even 
if  the  marriage  is  proved  to  be  authentic,  there  must  have 
been  some  reason  for  the  concealment  practised.  There  is 
much  to  be  cleared  up  and  we  will  fight  every  inch." 

"  God  forbid  that  there  should  be  anything  wicked  or  dis- 
honest about  this  claim, ' '  said  Mrs.  Winstead  earnestly,  her 
pale  face  growing  flushed  and  eager. 

' '  On  the  contrary,  that  is  the  very  thing  I  hope  to  dis- 
cover," replied  Mr.  Lindsay  briskly. 

Mrs.  Winstead  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  ashamed  to  have 
to  say,"  she  began  in  a  low  tone,  "that  U  was  my  own 
thought  at  first,  but  it  was  a  thought  that  sprang  from  faith- 
lessness. God  can  provide  for  me  and  mine,  and  also  for 
this  new  cousin.  Do  you  know  his  name  ? ' ' 

"  Felix  Merrivale' s  child  was  a  girl,"  replied  Mr.  Lind- 
say. "It  is  her  son  who  is  acting  in  the  matter.  He  signs 
himself  Felix  Merrivale  BranL" 

"  Will  you  let  me  see  what  he  writes  ?"  requested  Mrs. 
Winstead. 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  lawyer  ;  "  but  let  me  caution  you 
not  to  be  mislead  by  false  sympathy.  The  young  man  may 
be  completely  mistaken,  or  he  may  be  simply  the  tool  of 
designing  people  who  purposely  deceive  him.  He  writes 
in  the  style  of  a  very  young  man." 

While  speaking,  Mr.  Lindsay  was  turning  over  papers  in 
his  pocketbook,  and  he  took  out  a  fat  letter  which  he 
handed  to  Mrs.  Winstead. 

She  opened  it  with  trembling  hands,  but  she  soon  was 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  I/ 

deeply  interested  in  its  contents.  It  was  dated  from  Denver, 
Colorado,  and  stated  that  the  writer  was  the  son  of  Joanna 
and  Alfred  Brant  ;  that  Alfred  Brant  was  pastor  of  a  little 
mission  church  in  Silverbush,  a  small  mining  camp,  but  his 
health  had  given  way  and  as  he  could  no  longer  bear  the 
altitude  and  the  dry  climate  of  Colorado,  they  were  forced 
to  move.  In  Denver  the  son  had  found  a  little  employment 
and  was  trying  to  earn  enough  to  pay  their  way  farther  east, 
and  he  had  accidently  learned  from  a  man  who  came  from 
Harriton  that  the  Merrivales  owned  a  large  property  near 
that  town.  At  this  point  the  letter  became  rather  confused. 
The  writer  evidently  felt  very  sore  under  his  own  troubles 
and  poverty,  and  he  wrote  very  harshly  of  relations  who 
were  letting  his  mother  starve  while  they  had  plenty. 

"  It  is  a  pitiful  story,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead. 

"  Yes,  yes;  but  we  have  not  sufficient  guarantee  that  it  is 
true, ' '  hastily  interposed  the  lawyer.  •  •  There  is  a  copy  of 
a  marriage  certificate  and  also  a  copy  of  an  old  letter  of 
Miss  Merrivale's;  but  these  must  be  proved  to  be  correct" 

Mrs.  Winstead  was  now  unfolding  the  enclosures  and  she 
read  from  the  certificate  the  names  of  Felix  Merrivale  and 
Ruth  Harris.  The  other  paper  was  very  curt  Apparently 
Felix  Merrivale  had  written  to  his  sister  asking  for  more 
money,  and  had  also  made  some  reference  to  his  intention 
of  marrying.  The  answer  said  : 

"Mr.  James  A.  Lindsay,  16  Cedar  Street,  Harriton, 
attends  to  business  for  my  father  now.  He  is  too  feeble  to 
be  worried  with  your  affairs.  You  would  better  write  to 
Mr.  Lindsay.  As  to  the  question  of  getting  married,  you 
will  of  course  please  yourself;  but  I  shall  think  you  a 
bigger  fool  than  ever  before,  and  positively  wicked,  if  you 
hamper  yourself  with  wife  and  family  when  you  have  nevei 
yet  been  able  to  support  yourself." 

B 


1 8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mrs.  Winstead  examined  the  dates  and  remarked :  • '  This 
letter  is  dated  only  a  few  weeks  before  the  death  of  Uncle 
Felix  and  the  marriage  certificate  shows  that  he  must  have 
been  married  nearly  a  year  before.  I  suppose  that  he  was 
afraid  to  own  it  and  threw  out  some  hints  to  see  how  the 
idea  would  be  received  by  his  father  and  sister. ' ' 

"  He  certainly  got  very  little  encouragement  from  that  re- 
ply," said  the  lawyer  grimly.  "But  this  boy,  Felix  Brant, 
apparently  knows  nothing  about  the  will  made  by  Miss 
Merrivale,  and  we  must  proceed  very  cautiously.  I  see  no 
Christianity  in  playing  into  the  hands  of  rogues. ' ' 

"  It  does  not  read  to  me  like  the  letter  of  a  rogue,"  said 
Mrs.  Winstead  thoughtfully,  "  and  if  true,  they  are  worse  off 
than  I  have  been.  How  will  you  find  out  the  truth  ?" 

"My  partner,  Mr.  Guy  Atherton,  a  bright  young  fellow, 
has  to  go  West  to  attend  to  some  business  for  a  client,  and 
he  can  make  inquiries,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "You  may 
rest  assured  that  I  shall  take  every  means  possible  to  pro- 
tect your  interests  and  those  of  your  children."  He  rose  as 
he  spoke  and  glanced  at  his  watch.  ' « I  see  that  I  must 
leave  now  as  my  train  is  due  in  fifteen  minutes.  If  you 
should  have  any  letters  from  these  parties,  pray  send  them 
on  to  me  and  take  no  notice  of  them  yourself.  However,  I 
doubt  if  there  will  be  any  letter,  as  apparently  they  do  not 
know  of  the  death  of  Miss  Jessica  Merrivale." 

Mrs.  Winstead  gave  the  promise  he  asked  for,  and  as  she 
accompanied  him  to  the  door  they  met  Bertha  and  Mortimer. 

"The  next  time  I  come  I  shall  hope  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  listening  to  your  music  without  interruption,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay  as  he  shook  hands  with  Bertha.  ' '  Business  is  dry 
work  but  it  must  come  first." 

A  few  snowflakes  were  beginning  to  fall;  but  Mortimer 
had  provided  himself  with  a  lantern  and  was  equipped  to 


THE    FIRST    ALARM  19 

walk  to  the  station  with  their  guest.  As  soon  as  the  front 
door  closed  behind  them  Bertha  said  : 

"  A  nice  little  old  gentleman,  though  he  does  have  eyes 
like  gimlets.  What  did  he  want,  mamma  ? ' ' 

"I  cannot  tell  you  to-night,  dear  ;  I  am  very  tired  and 
my  head  aches.  I  think  I  will  shut  up  the  house  now.  and 
we  will  all  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  Mortimer  returns." 


CHAPTER  II 

TELLING    BERTHA 

THE  next  morning  a  clear  sky  and  bright  frosty  sunlight 
streaming  in  at  the  deep  windows  of  the  old-fashioned 
dining  room,  seemed  to  exhilarate  the  whole  family  at  the 
farmhouse.  Even  Mrs.  Winstead,  in  spite  of  her  wakeful 
night,  found  that  her  anxieties  grew  less  perplexing  under 
the  influence  of  the  bright  sunbeams  and  the  merry  chatter 
of  the  children. 

In  all  her  weary  cogitations  during  the  night  she  had  held 
firmly  to  the  determination  to  say  nothing  to  the  children 
about  the  tidings  that  had  come  with  such  a  shock  to  her- 
self. "It  will  be  time  enough  to  tell  them  when  we  know 
whether  it  is  true,"  she  argued  ;  but  with  the  daylight  came 
a  new  thought.  She  must  be  very  careful,  for  possibly  she 
was  even  now  spending  money  that  did  not  rightfully  be- 
long to  her. 

"  I  must  at  any  rate  tell  Mortimer  and  Bertha,"  she  de- 
cided. "They  are  old  enough  to  understand  and  help  me, 
and  as  for  the  younger  ones,  I  must  just  deny  them  what 
we  cannot  now  properly  afford. ' ' 

The  decision  brought  a  certain  relief  to  her  mind,  for  she 
really  longed  to  talk  with  some  one  with  whom  she  could 
speak  more  intimately  and  freely  than  with  Mr.  Lindsay. 

Mortimer  had  to  go  to  his  work  in  town,  but  Bertha  was 
moving  about  the  dining  room,  helping  the  old  servant,  Jane, 
who  had  lived  with  Miss  Merrivale  for  many  years  and 
after  her  death  had  stayed  on  with  Mrs.  Winstead. 

20 


TELLING    BERTHA  21 

The  dainty  freshness  of  the  young  girl  and  her  quiet, 
composed  manner  had  a  soothing  effect  on  her  mother's 
tired  nerves.  She  watched  her  for  a  moment  and  then  said 
playfully : 

"  I  want  you  upstairs  in  my  room  when  you  have  finished 
your  work  here,  my  '  neat-handed  Phyllis. '  ' 

"  I  shall  be  ready  in  a  moment,  mamma,"  replied  Bertha; 
"and  after  you  have  finished  what  you  want  me  for,  I 
thought  I  would  go  up  to  see  Ethel  Palmer." 

"You  were  up  there  yesterday,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead, 
' '  and  you  go  again  to-morrow  to  take  your  music  lesson. ' ' 

"Yes;  but  Kate  Willoughby  was  coming  out  last  evening, 
and  I  told  Ethel  that  I  would  run  up  this  morning  to  have 
a  little  music,"  said  Bertha. 

Mrs.  Winstead' s  brow  contracted,  but  she  only  said  gently; 
"  I  am  afraid  that  there  will  not  be  time  for  music  this  morn, 
ing,  dear." 

' '  Very  well,  mamma, ' '  replied  Bertha  placidly. 

"Bertha,  Kate  Willoughby  did  not  come  last  night," 
shouted  Jack  from  the  open  doorway  where  he  was  buckling 
a  strap  around  his  school  books.  "  Mortimer  told  me  that 
Mr.  Palmer  came  out  in  the  train  with  him,  and  there  was 
nobody  with  him." 

"  She  may  have  taken  an  earlier  train.  Ethel  did  not 
say  she  was  coming  with  her  father,"  replied  Bertha. 

"All  I  know  is  that  Mortimer  said  that  Mr.  Palmer  asked 
him  to  watch  for  Miss  Willoughby  before  the  train  left 
Harriton,  and  she  did  not  come,"  said  Jack,  and  he 
shouldered  his  books  and  went  off  whistling. 

Mrs.  Winstead  went  upstairs  with  a  smooth  brow.  The 
Palmers  had  always  been  friends  of  the  Merrivales  and  Mr. 
Palmer  had  bought  the  piece  of  land  that  was  formerly  the 
Merrivale  apple  orchard,  and  had  built  a  fine  house  there. 


22  THE   MERRIVALE   WILL 

His  wife  had  died  when  Ethel  and  Gertrude  were  little  chil- 
dren, and  a  few  years  later  he  had  married  again.  Kate 
Willoughby  was  niece  to  the  second  Mrs.  Palmer.  She 
was  a  handsome,  lively  girl,  with  a  fine  voice,  and  their 
musical  tastes  formed  a  strong  bond  of  sympathy  between 
her  and  Bertha  ;  but  Mrs.  Winstead  did  not  greatly  like  the 
companionship  for  Bertha, 

The  father  of  Kate  and  her  brother  Mark  owned  a  hand- 
some house  in  Harriton.  They  had  lost  their  mother 
when  very  young,  and  in  consequence  their  education  had 
been  rather  desultory.  At  first  they  were  put  in  charge  of 
a  nurse,  then  Mark  was  sent  to  school  and  Mr.  Willoughby' s 
sister  took  charge  of  his  house  and  of  Kate  ;  but  when  she 
married  Mr.  Palmer  a  quiet  old  lady  was  found  to  take  her 
place.  Old  Mrs.  Hughes  was  a  capital  housekeeper,  but 
having  no  children  of  her  own  she  was  quite  at  a  loss  with 
lively,  irrepressible  Kate,  and  the  girl  had  her  own  way  just 
at  the  age  when  she  most  needed  guidance.  Mrs.  Palmer 
often  lamented  over  this  to  Mrs.  Winstead,  and  was  greatly 
pleased  for  Kate' s  sake  that  she  could  be  thrown  into  com- 
pany with  the  Winsteads  ;  but  naturally,  Mrs.  Winstead 
was  not  so  much  pleased,  and  she  was  glad  when  it  was 
possible,  without  making  unpleasant  feeling  between  the 
families,  to  keep  Bertha  away  from  Kate.  She  was  there- 
fore relieved  to  find  that  Kate  had  not  arrived,  and  thus 
Bertha' s  visit  would  be  given  up  without  any  prohibition  on 
her  part.  She  stopped  in  the  schoolroom  to  see  that  Jessica 
and  Helen  were  properly  started  at  their  morning  tasks. 
Among  all  her  duties  she  always  found  time  to  teach  her 
children.  Helen  had  not  yet  been  sent  to  school,  while 
Jessica  was  also  under  her  mother's  instruction  this  winter 
on  account  of  her  health  and  eyesight. 

These  matters  being  attended  to,  Mrs.  Winstead  went  up  to 


TELLING    BERTHA  23 

her  room  and  took  out  the  letter  from  Felix  Brant  which 
Mr.  Lindsay  had  left  with  her.  She  had  decided  that  the 
best  plan  would  be  to  let  Bertha  read  the  letter  herself. 
While  she  was  still  turning  the  pages  the  young  girl  came  in 
with  a  roll  of  music  in  her  hand. 

"I  am  quite  ready  now,  mamma,"  she  said.  "Is  it  a 
message  that  you  want  me  to  take?" 

"  No,  dear;  it  is  something  very  important  that  I  learned 
from  Mr.  Lindsay  last  evening,"  replied  her  mother,  draw- 
ing Bertha  down  on  the  lounge  beside  her.  "  I  fear  it  will 
make  a  very  great  difference  in  the  comfort  of  our  lives;  but 
we  must  remember  that  all  comes  from  the  hand  of  our  God, 
and  that  our  only  safe  course  is  to  seek  to  find  out  his  will 
and  to  follow  that." 

Bertha' s  pretty  face  began  to  wear  a  look  of  surprise  and 
inquiry;  but  she  quietly  took  the  letter  her  mother  held  out 
to  her,  saying  lightly: 

"  It  cannot  be  anything  very  bad,  mamma,  when  we  are 
all  together  and  happy." 

As  she  read  the  letter  her  face  changed,  and  when  she 
had  finished  it  and  looked  up  again,  an  angry  light  glowed 
in  her  eyes  and  her  lips  were  curved  haughtily. 

"I  think  it  would  have  been  better  if  Mr.  Lindsay  had 
burned  this  without  troubling  you  with  it,"  she  exclaimed. 
•  •  What  right  has  this  young  man  to  find  fault  with  us  and 
with  Aunt  Jessica  ?  People  ought  not  to  come  begging  in 
quite  such  an  insolent  manner." 

"Hush,  hush,  my  dear;  you  do  not  understand  the 
matter,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  nervously.  "If  this  is  all 
true  about  the  young  man' s  mother,  she  has  as  good  a  right 
as  I  have  to  Aunt  Jessica' s  property. ' ' 

"Mamma,  you  are  only  speaking  from  pity  for  these 
people;  they  cannot  have  any  claim  on  you,"  asserted 


24  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

Bertha.  "You  never  saw  Uncle  Felix,  and  they  never  saw 
Aunt  Jessica." 

"My  dear,  although  Aunt  Jessica  knew  nothing  of  this 
marriage,  she  did  leave  the  property  to  be  divided  among 
her  three  brothers  or  their  heirs,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Win- 
stead.  "It  all  came  to  me  because  my  uncles  died  before 
Aunt  Jessica  and  left  no  children,  as  far  as  we  knew,  and  I 
was  my  father's  heir." 

"  It  is  all  very  unjust,"  persisted  Bertha.  "Are  you  to 
be  thrown  back  into  poverty  and  harassing  work,  when  you 
are  much  less  able  to  bear  it  than  you  were  eight  years  ago 
when  father  died  ? ' ' 

"God  will  give  me  strength  to  bear  his  will,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead;  "and  you  must  remember,  dear,  that  Mortimer 
is  now  able  to  earn,  and  you  have  a  good  education  which 
has  really  put  in  your  possession  a  means  of  making  a 
living." 

' '  Oh,  yes,  dear  mamma,  we  shall  both  do  all  we  can  ; 
but  meanwhile  you  must  not  let  yourself  be  imposed  upon. 
What  does  Mr.  Lindsay  say  ? ' ' 

The  angry  cloud  had  passed  from  Bertha' s  brow,  and  she 
now  stroked  her  mother' s  cheek  affectionately  as  she  spoke. 

' '  Mr.  Lindsay  says  nothing  can  be  done  until  he  makes 
inquiries,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead  ;  "but  of  course  we  must 
be  very  careful  and  economical.  A  division  of  the  property 
would  mean  the  sale  of  this  house. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  mamma,  that  would  be  dreadful  ! ' '  exclaimed 
Bertha.  "  Grandpapa  lived  here,  and  his  father  and  grand- 
father before  him.  You  remember  Aunt  Jessica  spoke  of  it 
as  your  home  after  she  was  gone." 

"Yes,  dear,"  replied  her  mother  quietly;  "but  Aunt 
Jessica  never  knew  that  your  father  had  lost  all  his  property. 
She  thought  that  Uncle  Ralph  would  prefer  cash  and  I 


TELLING    BERTHA  25 

could  have  the  farmhouse  ;  but  how  could  I  pay  taxes  and 
living  expenses  if  I  have  nothing  but  the  house  ?" 

"  No,  that  is  true,"  said  Bertha  thoughtfully.  Then  she 
suddenly  added  in  a  cheerful  tone:  "We  can  help  you, 
dear  little  mother.  I  ought  to  earn  a  great  deal  more  than 
Annie  Struthers  by  giving  music  lessons,  and  I  think  I 
would  better  stop  my  lessons  with  Professor  Lubeck  and 
look  out  for  pupils  at  once.  He  will  help  me,  I  dare  say,  as 
he  always  calls  me  his  best  pupil." 

"I  thought,  dear,  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  stop  the 
expense  of  Professor  Lubeck' s  lessons,"  replied  Mrs.  Win- 
stead;  "and  I  rather  counted  on  your  help  with  Helen  and 
Jessica.  About  your  taking  pupils,  it  would  depend  so 
much  upon  where  they  lived  and  with  whom  you  would  be 
brought  in  contact  We  cannot  decide  upon  that  hastily." 

"Ah,  well  ;  don't  worry  any  more  about  it  to-day,"  said 
Bertha.  "No  wonder  you  had  a  headache  last  night  I 
positively  hate  those  Brants." 

"Don't  say  that,  dear,"  expostulated  her  mother.  "If 
they  are  really  our  cousins  and  in  such  straits,  I  should  be 
thankful  to  help  them.  Remember  Mr.  Marshall's  sermon 
last  Sunday.  I  have  thought  a  good  deal  about  what  he 
said  on  doing  the  work  that  comes  to  us.  You  know  you 
even  talked  to  me  about  giving  music  lessons  last  year,  in 
order  to  have  money  to  give  away  ;  and  you  were  very 
much  interested  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Clarke,  the  missionary 
in  Kansas,  for  whom  we  made  up  a  box.  Surely  we  should 
not  be  less  kindly  in  feeling  to  our  own  kin!" 

"There  is  a  great  difference  between  working  to  help 
people  who  are  grateful  and  being  reduced  to  poverty  by 
people  who  are  so  rude  and  unjust,"  replied  Bertha,  with  a 
shade  of  stubborness  in  her  tone. 

Mrs.  Winstead  sighed  as  she  folded  and  replaced  the  let- 


26  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

ter  in  her  writing  portfolio.  She  knew  that  with  many 
sweet  and  amiable  traits  there  lay  an  obstinate  streak  in 
Bertha's  character  that  sometimes  bewildered  her,  for  it 
would  crop  out  so  amazingly,  yet  so  elusively. 

' '  You  must  think  in  whose  service  you  have  enrolled 
yourself,  dear  child,  and  strive  to  do  His  will  whether  it  be 
easy  or  hard, ' '  she  said  gently.  ' '  Now  we  will  talk  no  more 
about  the  matter,  and,  of  course,  you  will  mention  it  to  no 
one  at  present." 

Bertha  promised  very  readily  and  left  the  room,  while 
Mrs.  Winstead  went  down  to  the  schoolroom  to  hear  lessons 
and  to  go  over  sums  and  translations  with  Helen  and 
Jessica. 

The  work  of  teaching  usually  went  smoothly,  for  Mrs. 
Winstead  had  been  well  taught  herself,  and  knew  how  to 
arouse  interest  in  her  scholars.  But  to-day  everything 
seemed  difficult  and  her  headache  began  to  return.  While 
she  was  going  over  a  page  of  dictation  that  Helen  had  just 
written,  the  thought  flashed  into  her  mind  that  her  pastor, 
Mr.  Marshall,  might  be  able  to  tell  her  whether  the  name 
of  the  Rev.  Alfred  Brant  was  in  the  list  of  home  mission- 
aries. The  parsonage  was  only  ten  minutes'  walk  from  the 
farmhouse,  and  the  thought  of  a  little  fresh  air  and  a  few 
words  with  kind  old  Mr.  Marshall  and  his  sensible,  brisk 
little  wife  cheered  her  wonderfully. 

"  Run  and  find  Bertha,"  she  said  to  Jessica;  "she  can 
correct  Helen's  dictation  and  go  over  your  French  with 
you.  I  think  a  walk  will  do  my  head  good,  and  I  shall 
have  just  time  to  do  an  errand  at  the  parsonage  before  din- 
ner. Tell  Bertha  to  come  at  once." 

Jessica  went  quickly  enough  but  returned  as  speedily, 
saying  : 

"Jane  saw  Bertha  go  through  the  arbor  gate  with  a  music 


TELLING    BERTHA  2/ 

roll  in  her  hand  very  soon  after  you  came  to  our  lessons.  I 
suppose  she  has  gone  to  see  Ethel  Palmer. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  never  found  fault  with  one  of  her  children 
to  the  others;  but  she  had  to  shut  her  lips  tightly  before  she 
could  reply  : 

' '  Very  well,  dear  ;  have  your  French  ready  for  me  as 
soon  as  I  finish  with  Helen." 

In  her  own  heart  she  said  indignantly,  "Bertha  knew  I 
did  not  want  her  to  go. ' '  Then  it  occurred  to  her  that  she 
had  not  distinctly  forbidden  it  and  she  sighed  and  resumed 
the  lessons. 


CHAPTER  III 

MORTIMER    FINDS   IT   TRUE 

BERTHA  returned  just  as  the  dinner  bell  rang,  and  in 
answer  to  her  mother' s  gentle  expostulation,  she  said 
promptly  and  amiably: 

"I  am  very  sorry  that  I  went  You  did  not  tell  me  that 
you  wanted  me,  and  Kate  was  there.  She  had  missed  her 
train  last  evening  and  came  by  the  next ' ' 

"That  was  late  for  her  to  come  out  alone,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Winstead. 

"She  was  not  alone;  her  brother  came  with  her.  Oh, 
mamma,  he  has  a  splendid  tenor  voice.  I  have  here  one 
of  his  songs  that  he  says  Kate  never  plays  properly.  I 
tried  the  accompaniment ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  read  at  sight, 
and  Kate  told  me  to  bring  it  home."  Bertha  opened  the 
roll  of  music  as  she  spoke,  and  began  to  hum  the  song. 

"Mamma's  head  aches,"  said  Helen,  looking  up  gravely 
from  her  plate.  ' '  She  wanted  you  to  finish  our  lessons 
with  us  so  that  she  could  walk  down  to  see  Mrs.  Marshall 
before  dinner." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry,  mamma!"  exclaimed  Bertha. 
• '  Can' t  you  go  this  afternoon  ? ' ' 

"  No,"  replied  the  mother.  "  I  want  to  cut  out  Helen's 
new  frock.  I  shall  not  give  it  to  Miss  Dawson  to  make." 

"Then  let  me  take  the  message  to  Mrs.  Marshall," 
urged  Bertha. 

"  No,  that  can  wait      I  would  rather  you  helped  me  with 
Helen's  frock,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead. 
28 


MORTIMER    FINDS    IT    TRUE  29 

Bertha  bit  her  lip,  but  with  only  a  momentary  hesita- 
tion she  answered  pleasantly: 

' '  Very  well ;  then  may  Jessica  carry  back  this  music  of 
Mr.  Willoughby'  s  ?  They  are  going  back  to  town  this 
afternoon,  and  they  wanted  me  to  come  up  again  to  try 
the  song." 

"Oh,  yes,  Jessica  can  go;  but  I  want  you  to  stay,"  said 
Mrs.  Winstead,  turning  to  Jessica  with  a  relieved  expres- 
sion. 

Nothing  more  was  said  on  this  subject  at  that  time,  but 
later  in  the  day,  when  Jessica  had  returned  from  her  errand 
and  was  helping  Helen  to  cut  out  paper  dolls  in  the  school- 
room, the  little  girl  suddenly  remarked : 

"Did  it  ever  strike  you  that  Bertha  is  selfish,  Jessica?" 

' '  No,  and  I  don' t  think  it  is  fair  of  you  to  say  that, 
Helen,  when  you  know  that  she  hates  to  sew,  and  at  this 
very  moment  is  upstairs  helping  mamma  with  your  frock," 
said  Jessica  hotly. 

"At  least  she  likes  very  much  to  have  her  own  way," 
persisted  Helen,  as  she  surveyed  critically  the  features  of  a 
doll  that  Jessica  had  just  drawn  for  her. 

"She  gave  up  very  nicely,  though  she  wanted  to  go  up 
to  Mr.  Palmer's  again  for  more  music,"  said  Jessica;  "and 
I  know  she  would  have  stayed  at  home  and  taken  all  our 
lessons  this  morning  if  mamma  had  asked  her." 

"Yes,"  conceded  Helen,  as  she  thoughtfully  prodded 
her  scissors  through  the  body  of  a  doll  that  had  not  been 
drawn  well  enough  to  pass  muster;  "she  gives  up  very  nicely 
when  the  niceness  shows." 

"Now,  Helen,  that  is  positively  backbiting,"  ex- 
claimed Jessica  indignantly.  "  Bertha  is  really  good  and 
conscientious,  and  is  more  particular  than  ever  since  she  be- 
came a  church-member,  and  she  is  very  kind  and  sweet.  I 


3O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

should  think  that  you  would  be  ashamed  to  say  such 
things  of  your  own  sister." 

Helen  dropped  the  scissors,  and  propping  her  chin  on 
her  hands,  stared  with  big  puzzled  eyes  into  Jessica's 
flushed  face. 

"I  can't  make  it  out,"  she  said  at  last,  slowly;  "there  is 
something  wrong.  I  don't  believe  Aunt  Rachel  ever 
thinks  about  giving  up  her  own  way;  but  she  must  do  it, 
for  she  is  always  doing  nice  things  for  other  people  without 
being  asked ;  and  Bertha  is  always  having  to  be  told. ' ' 

' '  Aunt  Rachel,  of  course,  knows  better  how  to  go  about 
it.  She  is  twice  as  old  as  Bertha,"  said  Jessica  shortly. 

"I  don't  think  it  is  only  that,"  remarked  Helen  mus- 
ingly. "It  has  something  to  do  with  what  Mr.  Marshall 
said  last  Sunday,  I  believe.  You  know  he  said  that  if  we 
thought  less  about  giving  up  our  own  will  and  more  about 
the  will  of  Christ,  we  should  succeed  better. ' ' 

' '  I  don' t  think  that  you  are  old  enough  to  teach  Bertha 
or  to  preach  sermons  to  me, ' '  replied  Jessica,  who,  with  all 
her  good  temper,  was  very  sensitive  to  any  blame  of  Ber- 
tha and  was  stanchly  devoted  to  her  beautiful  sister. 

Seeing  that  Jessica  was  likely  to  become  irritated,  Helen 
let  the  subject  drop.  The  Winstead  children  were  not 
prone  to  squabbling  and  nagging,  and  Helen's  next  remark 
was  merely  an  inquiry  whether  Aunt  Rachel  had  written  to 
Jessica  about  some  wool  for  Christmas  work. 

Aunt  Rachel  was  the  children's  confidante  'in  all  the 
little  schemes  and  surprises  that  were  to  be  kept  hidden 
from  their  mother.  Miss  Rachel  Clive  was  their  father's 
aunt;  and  as  she  lived  in  a  quiet  boarding  house  in  Harri- 
ton  and  was,  as  Helen  had  said,  always  ready  to  do  things 
for  other  people,  numerous  were  the  commissions  entrusted 
to  her  for  birthdays  and  before  Christmas  time. 


MORTIMER    FINDS    IT    TRUE  31 

While  the  two  younger  ones  were  chattering  in  the  school- 
room, Bertha  was  stitching  away  diligently  in  the  room 
above,  while  Mrs.  Winstead  cut  out  and  basted  work.  At 
last  she  said : 

1 '  Mamma,  I  told  Ethel  Palmer  to-day  that  I  did  not 
think  that  I  would  take  any  more  lessons  of  Mr.  Lubeck 
after  Christmas." 

"  I  suppose  that  it  must  be  so,  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  absent-mindedly,  as  she  pinned  a  pattern. 

"  I  also  asked  Kate  if  she  knew  of  any  nice  families  in 
Harriton,  where  a  music  teacher  for  beginners  was  needed," 
continued  Bertha. 

"Oh,  my  dear!"  exclaimed  her  mother,  startled  into 
giving  full  attention.  "I  hope  you  have  not  been  taking 
those  young  girls  into  your  confidence,  when  I  particularly 
desired  you  not  to  mention  this  matter  ? ' ' 

"Not  in  the  least,  mamma,"  replied  Bertha  placidly. 
"I  said  nothing  about  your  affairs,  only  that  I  would  like 
to  begin  to  earn  a  little  money." 

"We  will  think  about  it,  dear,"  said  her  mother  ner- 
vously. "  I  shrink  very  much  from  letting  you  go  out  into 
the  world  as  a  teacher  must" 

"Don't  worry  about  that,"  exclaimed  Bertha  eagerly. 
"Just  think  what  opportunities  for  improvement  I  shall 
have  if  I  can  go  to  town  frequently.  I  missed  so  many  con- 
certs and  matinees  last  year,  because  you  did  not  think  it 
best  to  spend  so  much  in  constant  trips  to  town." 

Mrs.  Winstead  remembered  perfectly  well  that  Bertha 
had  been  eager  very  often  to  go  to  Harriton  with  some  of 
her  young  friends,  or  else  had  begged  for  permission  to 
spend  a  few  days  with  her  Aunt  Rachel  or  with  some  of  her 
friends  who  lived  in  town,  in  order  to  hear  more  music. 
Mrs.  Winstead,  though  very  willing  to  please  and  gratify 


32  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

her,  had  felt  that  it  broke  up  home  life  and  also  threw 
Bertha  at  times  into  the  company  of  young  people  with 
whom  she  did  not  desire  her  to  become  intimate.  She  had 
felt  thankful  that  she  lived  in  the  country  and  could  more 
easily  guard  against  these  dangers ;  so  it  was  not  surprising 
that  now  she  did  not  share  her  daughter' s  enthusiasm. 

"Don't  be  hasty,  Bertha,"  she  said  wearily,  passing  her 
hand  over  her  forehead.  "I  must  talk  to  Mortimer  this 
evening  and  hear  what  he  says  before  we  make  definite 
plans. ' ' 

Bertha  was  too  well  pleased  with  the  perspective  that  was 
opening  before  her  imagination  to  press  the  subject.  She 
stitched  away  busily,  talking  cheerfully  on  other  topics,  but 
was  all  the  time  mentally  arranging  her  own  plans  with  that 
placid  determination  which  was  characteristic  of  her. 

Mortimer  had  never  been  considered  at  all  brilliant;  but 
he  was  possessed  of  quiet  common  sense,  combined  with  a 
kindly  nature,  that  made  him  really  a  valuable  adviser  to 
his  mother.  It  was  therefore  a  relief  to  her  to  look  forward 
to  laying  the  whole  matter  before  him,  and  she  tried  to 
push  aside  all  further  thought  until  his  return. 

Mortimer  had  noticed  that  his  mother  seemed  worried, 
but  he  had  no  idea  of  the  importance  of  the  communication 
that  Mr.  Lindsay  had  made  to  her  the  preceding  evening, 
and  when  she  called  him  to  her  room  for  a  private  talk 
after  tea  and  put  the  matter  before  him,  he  was  a  good  deal 
taken  aback. 

"It  does  not  read  like  a  made-up  story,  mother,"  he 
said,  as  he  carefully  read  through  Felix  Brant's  letter  and 
handed  it  back  to  her;  "and  if  that  fellow  is  really  in  the 
plight  he  describes  about  his  father  and  mother,  I  am 
awfully  sorry  for  him.  But  we  must  be  very  careful  not  to 
get  taken  in.  Of  course  it  would  make  a  tremendous  differ- 


MORTIMER    FINDS    IT    TRUE  33 

ence  to  us  if  the  property  had  to  be  cut  in  half;  but  we  don' t 
know  that  it  will  come  to  that ;  and  even  if  it  does,  don' t 
you  worry.  I  shall  get  a  rise  soon  at  Palmer  &  Davenant'  s, 
and  things  will  not  be  half  as  bad  as  they  were  when  father 
died ;  for  at  the  worst  there  will  be  something  to  start  afresh 
upon,  and  then,  you  know,  you  had  nothing." 

Encouraged  by  his  words  Mrs.  Winstead  began  to  talk 
over  plans,  and  the  mother  and  son  discussed  the  question 
until  Mortimer  suddenly  exclaimed: 

"If  this  fellow's  father  is  a  minister,  as  he  says,  I  won- 
der if  we  could  not  find  his  name  in  some  list  of  ministers 
or  home  missionaries." 

"I  had  thought  of  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead,  "and 
I  intended  to  go  to  the  parsonage  as  soon  as  I  had  time,  to 
ask  Mr.  Marshall." 

"The  very  thing!"  exclaimed  Mortimer.  "I'll  put  on 
my  hat  and  overcoat  and  run  over  there  now.  I'  11  be  bound 
that  he  can  lend  us  a  '  Year  Book,'  and  if  we  can' t  find  him 
in  that  we  can  get  lists  of  ministers  of  other  churches." 

"It  is  worth  trying,"  replied  his  mother,  as  Mortimer 
hurried  off. 

The  letter  gave  no  clue  as  to  the  church  to  which  Mr. 
Brant  belonged,  but  Mrs.  Winstead  in  her  eager  and  excited 
state,  felt  as  though  this  test  was  to  be  a  proof  of  the  truth 
of  all  Felix  Brant's  assertions.  She  paced  her  room  fora 
little  while  after  Mortimer  had  gone,  hardly  knowing  what 
she  wished  or  feared;  then  suddenly  her  restless  pacing  to 
and  fro  ceased  and  she  fell  on  her  knees  and  prayed  ear- 
nestly, not  that  this  impending  trouble  might  be  averted,  but 
that  she  might  see  the  Lord' s  will  in  it  all,  and  that  she  might 
be  taught  how  best  to  do  his  will.  She  was  still  kneeling 
when  the  sound  of  the  house  door  opening  and  closing  and 
of  rapid  steps  warned  her  that  Mortimer  had  returned. 

C 


34  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

She  rose  quickly  and  met  him  at  the  door  of  the  room 
with  eager  questioning  eyes. 

"Here  it  is,  mother,"  he  said,  pulling  a  copy  of  the 
' '  Year  Book  ' '  from  his  pocket  and  opening  it  at  the  name 
Colorado,  he  ran  his  finger  down  the  list  of  names  alpha- 
betically arranged,  and  read :  "  '  Brant,  Alfred  T. ,  Silver- 
bush.  '  That  must  be  the  man ;  so  far  the  story  looks  true. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  took  the  book  and  looked  at  the  name, 
and  almost  to  her  own  surprise  her  heart  seemed  to  grow 
lighter. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  went  for  this,  Mortimer,"  she  said. 
"I  do  not  feel  now  as  despondent  as  I  have  been  ever  since 
Mr.  Lindsay  first  showed  me  that  letter.  I  knew  all  the 
time  that  everything  must  be  for  the  best,  but  now  I  begin 
really  to  feel  it." 

"That  is  right,  little  mother,  keep  up  good  heart," 
said  the  young  man  cheerily.  He  did  not  understand  her, 
but  he  was  glad  to  see  her  more  cheerful  and  he  added 
bravely :  "  It  will  not  do  any  of  us  any  harm  to  try  our  mettle 
a  little.  You  must  remember  that  now  you  haven' t  a  pack 
of  babies  on  your  hands  as  you  had  eight  years  ago.  I 
shall  get  ahead  fast  and  Bertha  will  be  a  great  help  to  you. ' ' 

1 '  Bertha  has  already  told  me  that  she  will  give  up  her 
own  music  lessons  when  the  quarter  is  up  with  Professor 
Lubeck  at  Christmas ;  and  she  wants  to  get  some  pupils, ' ' 
said  Mrs.  Winstead  in  a  doubtful  tone. 

"  Well,  if  we  have  to  move  into  Harriton  that  might  be  a 
good  plan, ' '  remarked  Mortimer.  '  •  I  was  thinking  more 
of  the  help  that  she  could  give  you  with  the  little  ones. 
Still,  as  there  is  no  need  to  decide  about  that  now,  we  can 
let  it  wait  until  we  know  exactly  what  must  be  done  about 
the  Brant  claim.  How  does  Bertha  look  at  that  matter?" 

"She  was   very   much   annoyed    at   first,"    replied    his 


MORTIMER    FINDS    IT   TRUE  35 

mother.  "But  she  seemed  more  cheerful  to-day.  The 
tone  of  the  letter  vexed  her  I  think" 

"  No  wonder,"  replied  Mortimer,  with  a  little  shrug. 

"I  do  not  want  either  of  you  to  feel  vexation  or  any  per- 
sonal dislike  to  those  who  may  be  really  our  relations  and 
who  may  also  be  very  nice  people,"  said  his  mother 
urgently.  "  I  am  sure  that  it  will  all  come  right  if  we  are 
willing  to  wait  to  know  what  is  the  will  of  God  and  if  we 
do  not  hastily  endeavor  to  make  things  bend  to  our  own 
feelings  and  wishes.  How  can  we  be  sure  that  we  can  see 
far  enough  to  wish  for  what  is  really  the  best  for  us  ? "  She 
spoke  very  earnestly  and  her  pale  face  flushed,  for  she  rarely 
let  her  innermost  feelings  express  themselves  so  plainly. 

"Right  again,  little  mother,  as  you  always  are,"  re- 
sponded Mortimer  heartily,  and  bending  his  tall  figure  he 
kissed  her.  Then  drawing  her  hand  protectingly  through 
his  arm  he  said,  ' '  Now  come  downstairs  and  think  no 
more  about  it  all  to-night ' ' 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   LAWYER    IN    COLORADO 

THE  setting  sun  was  dipping  toward  the  line  of  moun- 
tain peaks  that  form  the  western  horizon  to  the  town 
of  Colorado  Springs.  His  rays  still  fell  warm  and  bright 
through  the  leafless  branches  of  the  cottonwood  trees  with 
which  the  streets  and  avenues  of  the  little  town  were  lined. 
Two  young  men  were  walking  along  the  wooden  sidewalk 
in  earnest  conversation.  The  elder  and  shorter  man  was 
evidently  a  stranger.  He  bore  unmistakable  traces  of  hav- 
ing recently  arrived  from  the  East,  while  the  other  was  a 
tall,  powerful  young  fellow,  whose  honest  brown  face  had 
the  keen,  alert  aspect  of  one  who  had  been  accustomed  to 
the  rough,  open-air  life  of  Western  pioneer  camps. 

They  were  approaching  a  little  one-story  frame  house 
that  stood  near  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  where  houses, 
trees,  streets,  and  irrigating  trenches  all  merged  into  the 
wide,  level,  sun-browned  prairie  stretching  away  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach  toward  the  distant  eastern  horizon. 

' '  Well,  Mr.  Atherton,  all  I  have  got  to  say  is,  that  my 
father  and  mother  don' t  know  the  first  syllable  about  that 
letter  of  mine.  I  wasn'  t  going  to  bother  them,  when  like 
as  not  it  might  all  come  to  nothing.  They  did  not  like  the 
man  who  first  put  it  into  my  head  that  there  might  be  any- 
thing gotten  from  relations  of  my  mother's." 

"  How  was  it  that  the  man  you  speak  of  did  not  give  you 
more  exact  information?"  asked  Mr.  Atherton. 

' '  Oh,  he  was  a  bad  lot,  and  I  never  asked  him  anything. 
36 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  37 

If  he  had  thought  that  anybody  cared  two  straws  about  any 
information  he  could  give,  he  would  have  skinned  them  out 
of  every  cent  that  he  could  get,  and  then  have  lied,  as  like 
as  not,  in  the  information." 

1 '  That  is  a  fine  character  ! ' '  exclaimed  Mr.  Atherton. 
"How  did  you  come  to  pay  any  attention  to  what  such  a 
man  said  ? ' ' 

1 '  Only  because  he  let  drop  something  about  Merrivales 
living  near  Harriton,  and  about  their  having  a  good  big 
property  there.  Of  course  I  pricked  up  my  ears,  because 
I  knew  that  my  mother  was  a  Merrivale,  and  when  things 
went  so  badly  with  my  father,  I  got  her  talking  about  her 
parents  and  found  out  the  address  that  she  had  in  that  let- 
ter from  my  grandfather's  aunt  If  it  is  all  a  hoax  and 
there  is  no  chance  of  anything  being  done  to  help  my 
parents,  I  don't  want  them  bothered  about  it,"  said  the 
young  man  resolutely. 

"You  are  very  wise  not  to  bother  them  until  you  know 
more,"  said  Mr.  Atherton  cautiously.  "There  is  a  good 
deal  to  be  done  in  such  cases.  You  would  have  to  prove 
that  you  were  any  kin  to  the  Merrivales  in  the  East,  and 
that  might  be  an  expensive  business." 

"We  can't  go  into  any  expensive  business,"  replied  the 
young  man,  with  a  short  laugh. 

"If  you  could  prove  relationship  with  the  people  that 
man  talked  about,  what  then  ? ' '  asked  Mr.  Atherton. 
"  Did  he  say  that  he  thought  you  could  get  any  money  ?" 

"Who,  Graves  ?"  exclaimed  the  young  man.  "  Not  he. 
He  never  said  a  word  to  me  about  it  Of  course,  if  these 
people  were  rich,  they  might  think  it  a  shame  to  leave  a  re- 
lation like  my  mother  in  poverty ;  but  if  they  are  mean  skin- 
flints, they  may  go.  Mother  has  about  all  the  worry  now 
that  she  is  able  for;  and  as  for  father,  he  is  not  the  sort  of 


38  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

man  to  fight  his  own  battles,  though  if  you  can  show  me 
any  man  who  would  fight  harder  and  longer  to  save  a  poor 
fellow  who  is  going  to  the  devil,  I  just  wish  you  would  fetch 
him  along  ;  he  would  be  worth  knowing, ' '  wound  up  the 
young  man  with  a  defiant  nod. 

"Your  father  must  have  done  a  great  deal  of  good  in 
Silverbush,"  remarked  Mr.  Atherton,  who  was  growing  in- 
terested in  his  companion. 

"If  he  has,  it  won't  be  from  him  that  you  will  hear  of 
it,"  retorted  the  son.  "  But  here  we  are  at  the  house  ;  and 
before  we  go  in  I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  won' t 
say  a  word  to  the  old  folks  about  all  this  that  we  have  been 
talking  about  They  don't  know  that  I  met  Graves  in 
Denver.  He  had  to  leave  Silverbush  for  his  health."  He 
nodded  significantly  as  he  spoke  and  faced  his  companion 
with  a  determined  expression  in  his  bright  brown  eyes  and 
about  his  square  jaw. 

1 '  Certainly  ;  I  consider  all  that  you  have  told  me  as  a 
matter  entirely  between  ourselves,"  said  Mr.  Atherton, 
holding  out  his  hand  frankly.  ' '  But  one  word  more,  Mr. 
Brant.  I  want  you  to  remember  that  where  families  have 
been  separated,  and  the  members  have  lost  sight  of  each 
other  for  years,  there  may  be  complete  ignorance  without 
any  intentional  neglect  or  coldness  ;  and  the  family  at  home 
naturally  would  want  to  be  sure  that  all  is  right  before  try- 
ing to  re-establish  communications. ' ' 

"  Does  that  mean  that  you  are  afraid  that  I  am  trying  to 
come  a  sharp  game  ? ' '  asked  the  young  man  with  a  short 
laugh.  "But  never  mind,  just  come  in  and  talk  to  my 
mother  about  her  folks  and  you  will  soon  see  that  I  have 
told  a  straight  story.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned  I  don't 
want  anything  from  anybody  except  work,  and  I  would 
rather  get  the  work  out  here  than  to  go  East  myself  ;  but  it 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  39 

is  different  with  father  ;  he  must  get  away.  I  would  rather 
earn  the  money  to  send  them  both  East  than  to  ask  it  of 
any  cousins,  even  if  I  knew  more  about  them  than  I  do  of 
these  Merrivales  at  Harriton.  But  what  is  the  use  of  talk- 
ing ?  You  will  soon  see  for  yourself  that  father  cannot  hold 
on  here  till  I  earn  enough  money  for  the  journey.  Now 
come  in."  He  stopped  abruptly  and  Mr.  Atherton  followed 
him  through  a  little  gate  and  up  to  a  small  side  porch. 

The  sun  was  already  disappearing  behind  Mount  Rosa, 
and  Pike' s  Peak  loomed  above  the  shoulders  of  the  adjoin- 
ing mountains  like  a  grizzled  giant,  for  snow  rarely  covers  the 
Peak.  Even  in  the  depths  of  winter  the  fierce  western  winds 
rend  and  scatter  the  white  mantle  as  soon  as  it  falls,  so  that 
the  gray  rocky  summit  appears  from  the  plain  below  to  be 
only  powdered  or  streaked  with  white.  The  background  of 
mountains  terminated  to  the  south  in  the  peculiar  outline  of 
Cheyenne,  standing  out  dark  against  the  glowing  western 
sky. 

Guy  Atherton  noted  all  this  as  he  walked  up  the  path  to 
the  little  porch  ;  but  already  the  sudden  chill  that  follows 
directly  upon  the  disappearance  of  the  sun  began  to  be  felt, 
and  a  shiver  ran  through  .him,  though  a  few  minutes  before 
he  had  scarcely  thought  of  the  cold.  As  Felix  opened  the 
front  door  he  gladly  turned  from  all  the  chill  outside  gran- 
deur and  stepped  into  a  comfortable  sitting  room  cozy  with 
the  warmth  of  a  good  fire. 

In  an  easy-chair  beside  the  table,  that  was  covered  with 
books,  sat  a  small,  thin  man.  He  was  partly  bald  and  his 
thin  hair  was  gray.  Indeed  he  looked  so  old  and  fragile 
that  Mr.  Atherton  could  hardly  believe  that  he  was  the 
father  of  the  stalwart  young  fellow  beside  him. 

"This  is  Mr.  Guy  Atherton,  father,"  said  Felix.  "I 
met  him  down  at  the  post  office.  He  only  arrived  yesterday 


4O  THE  -MERRIVALE   WILL 

from  the  East,  and  I  guess  maybe  he  knows  some  of  the 
folks  that  you  used  to  know  there.  He  and  I  have  been 
going  about  the  town  and  I  brought  him  up  to  see  you  and 
mother. ' ' 

Mr.  Brant  had  risen  and  held  out  a  friendly  hand  to 
his  visitor.  Mr.  Atherton  noticed  as  he  took  it  that,  although 
it  was  brown  and  roughened,  it  shook  perceptibly  and  the 
mild  blue  eyes  had  a  weary  look  about  the  eyelids. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Mr.  Brant ;  "but  I  doubt  if 
we  shall  find  that  many  of  my  old  acquaintances  in  the  East 
are  known  to  you,  as  it  is  more  than  twenty  years  since  I 
came  westward. ' ' 

"That  looks  like  a  longer  time  out  here  than  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Harriton,"  replied  Mr.  Atherton. 

"That  is  true,"  said  Mr.  Brant  "  I  do  not  recall  that  I 
ever  visited  Harriton  ;  but  I  was  at  college  not  far  from 
there,  and  I  heard  of  the  town  frequently  ;  yet  at  that  time 
this  town  was  not  even  in  existence." 

His  voice  was  so  weak  and  tremulous  that  Guy  Atherton 
hastened  to  take  the  chair  that  Felix  offered  him,  as  he 
could  not  bear  to  keep  the  old  gentleman  standing  any 
longer.  As  Mr.  Brant  dropped  into  his  chair  again  the  light 
from  the  window  shone  more  fully  on  his  face  and  Guy 
noticed  that,  although  the  beard  and  mustache  which  cov- 
ered his  mouth  and  chin  were  nearly  white,  his  face  was 
more  worn  by  illness  than  by  age. 

There  was  something  in  his  expression,  in  the  shape  of 
his  head  and  forehead,  and  in  the  tone  of  his  voice,  that 
made  Guy  Atherton  judge  him  to  be  a  scholar  even  before 
his  eye  fell  on  the  Greek  Testament  and  the  Hebrew  Bible 
that  lay  open  on  the  table. 

"We  are  interrupting  your  studies,"  he  said,  pointing  to 
the  books.  ' '  I  hardly  expected  to  find  any  one  in  this 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  4! 

busy,  pushing  State  who  would  find  time  to  keep  up  the  dead 
languages. ' ' 

' '  I  see  that  you  share  the  popular  idea  that  the  West  is 
the  land  of  spades  and  picks  and  flannel  shirts,"  replied 
Mr.  Brant  smiling.  "  It  is  true  that  the  work  necessary  for 
the  opening  up  of  new  country  is  not  conducive  to  the  ease 
and  repose  that  form  the  most  favorable  atmosphere  for  the 
pursuit  of  literary  labors  ;  but  much  can  be  done  when  the 
taste  lies  in  that  direction.  In  this  town  you  will  find  that 
people  are  not  given  up  to  the  one  aim  of  money  getting." 

•  •  I  have  been  told  that  Colorado  Springs  is  rather  an  ex- 
ception to  other  Colorado  towns,  since  it  has  never  been,  as 
many  others  have  been,  a  rough  mining  camp  that  grad- 
ually emerged  from  lawlessness  into  respectability." 

"No,  this  place  has  always  been  rather  a  resort  for  in- 
valids and  for  quiet  people  who  wished  to  enjoy  the  won- 
derful climate  and  scenery,"  replied  Mr.  BranL 

"  Have  you  been  here  long  ?"  asked  Guy. 

"Oh,  no;  my  station  was  at  Silverbush,  a  mining  camp; 
though  I  think  that  in  a  few  years  possibly  I  should  find 
that  a  large  and  well- governed  town,  if  my  health  were  such 
that  I  could  return  thither,"  said  Mr.  Brant 

Guy  wished  that  he  could  ask  what  had  taken  him  to 
such  a  place  ;  but  Mr.  Brant  had  given  no  encouragement 
for  any  personal  questions,  so  he  had  to  content  himself 
with  the  remark  that  a  quarter  of  a  century  had  made  won- 
derful changes  in  the  Western  States.  "But,"  he  added, 
"I  should  think  that  you  would  like  to  see  the  East  again 
after  such  a  long  absence. ' ' 

"  I  do  find  a  feeling  coming  over  me  at  times,"  said  Mr. 
Brant  slowly.  "  It  was  just  before  the  war  broke  out  that 
I  came  to  SL  Louis,  and  since  then  I  have  never  been 
across  the  Mississippi  River  ;  but  latterly,  I  think  some- 


42  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

thing  of  nostalgia  has  attacked  me."  He  smiled  faintly  as 
he  spoke,  but  any  reply  from  Guy  was  interrupted  by  a 
voice  behind  him  which  exclaimed  in  rather  shrill  and  very 
decided  tones  : 

"  Neuralgia  !  Well  now,  father,  that  is  just  too  bad.  I 
know  what  neuralgia  is,  but  I  did  think  that  you  didn't 
have  any  turns  of  that,  at  least,  when  goodness  knows  you 
are  weak  enough  without  any  more  to  pull  you  down. ' ' 

"Mother,"  interposed  Felix,  "this  is  a  gentleman  from 
the  East,  Mr.  Atherton.  He  knows  a  place  you  have  heard 
of.  He  comes  from  Harriton." 

' '  You  don' t  say  so  !  Well  now,  that  is  queer, ' '  replied 
Mrs.  Brant  "I'm  glad  to  see  you.  I  would  just  like  to 
hear  something  about  that  place,  for  I  never  heard  any- 
thing more  than  the  name,  though  I  have  been  told  that 
my  father's  folks  lived  there." 

She  was  a  short,  stout,  and  bustling  little  woman,  with  keen 
gray  eyes  and  rather  a  sharp  nose  ;  but  there  was  such  a  kind, 
frank  greeting  in  the  way  that  she  held  out  her  hand,  that 
Guy  felt  ashamed  of  a  private  opinion  that  he  had  been 
nursing,  to  the  effect  that  she  was  the  schemer  of  the  fam- 
ily, who  for  reasons  of  her  own  had  urged  her  son  to  make 
the  claim  that  she  did  not  care  to  make  in  person. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  talk  to  you  about  Harriton,"  he 
said  ;  "  for  I  confess  that  when  I  arrived  here  last  night  I 
had  a  little  fit  of  homesickness  come  over  me.  The  only 
man  I  know  happened  to  be  out  of  town,  and  if  it  had  not 
been  for  your  son  I  should  have  spent  a  pretty  dull  day. ' ' 

"You  won't  be  long  in  pickin'  up  friends,"  replied  Mrs. 
Brant  heartily.  ' '  I  knew  everybody  in  Silverbush  before 
we  had  been  there  a  week,  and  we  have  picked  up  friends 
straight  along  both  in  Denver  and  here." 

Guy  was  not  in  the  least  inclined  to  doubt  her  assertion. 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  43 

She  seemed  to  have  such  superabundance  of  energy  that  he 
caught  himself  inwardly  calculating  whether  she  could  not 
in  less  than  three  weeks  know  all  Harriton.  But  he  soon 
found  that  he  must  give  all  his  attention  to  her,  for  she  be- 
gan to  question  about  Harriton  and  the  people  whom  he 
knew  there,  till  at  length  he  asked  : 

"Have  you  friends  living  in  Harriton  ?" 

"  No  ;  but  my  father  came  from  there,  or  near  there.  He 
died  before  I  was  born,  but  I  have  heard  from  my  mother 
that  his  family  lited  there,"  she  replied. 

"Was  your  mother  also  from  Harriton?"  asked  Mr. 
Atherton,  who  felt  none  of  the  delicacy  about  questioning 
her  that  he  felt  with  her  husband. 

' '  No,  indeed,  she  was  an  orphan,  and  she  lived  with 
her  uncle's  family  in  Iowa  Territory,  as  it  was  then  ;  but  I 
guess  my  uncle  never  stayed  long  enough  in  one  place  to 
succeed  very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Brant 

"How  odd  it  seems  to  think  of  the  State  of  Iowa  as  a 
Territory, ' '  said  the  young  man  smiling. 

"I  suppose  so,  to  you,"  remarked  Mrs.  Brant,  "and  in 
fact  I  don' t  remember  it  as  anything  but  a  State,  for  I  was 
only  a  child  of  about  six  when  Iowa  was  admitted  ;  but  I 
remember  very  well  all  the  rough  times  there  were  in  Kan- 
sas, about  fifty-four,  when  they  were  fighting  whether  it 
should  be  a  free  or  a  slave  State.  My  mother  had  died  be- 
fore then,  and  my  uncle,  who  was  a  great  anti-slavery  man, 
moved  into  the  Kansas-Nebraska  Territory  when  the  fight 
was  at  the  hottest  and  everybody's  blood  was  up.  People 
talk  of  roughing  it  in  the  West  now,  but  it  is  nothing  to  the 
days  when  I  was  a  girl." 

"Then  I  suppose  your  parents  were  married  in  Iowa," 
said  Mr.  Atherton,  who  found  himself  approaching  the 
subject  on  which  he  desired  information. 


44  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

' '  Yes,  but  I  don' t  exactly  know  where  ;  the  lines  my 
mother  had  got  torn  or  worn  and  the  address  is  not  there, 
though  the  date  is  plain  enough.  You  see  my  father  was 
killed  by  a  frisky,  wild  young  horse  that  he  was  trying  to 
break  in  ;  and  as  that  happened  less  than  a  year  after  their 
marriage,  my  mother  had  enough  trouble  and  sorrow  to  wear 
upon  her,  and  she  did  not  live  many  years.  I  was  only 
five  years  old  when  she  died,  and  her  uncle  and  aunt  who 
had  no  children  of  their  own  and  had  always  done  for  her, 
went  on  taking  care  of  me. ' ' 

' '  Are  they  living  now  ? ' '  asked  Guy. 

"  Oh  no  ;  they  died  just  about  the  time  that  we  were  mar- 
ried," she  said,  turning  to  her  husband.  "  Don' t  you  re- 
member how  uncle  said  that  it  was  the  one  anxiety  off  of 
his  mind  when  he  had  been  permitted  by  the  Lord  to  live 
to  see  me  in  the  keeping  of  a  good,  God-fearing  man.  You 
see  my  father' s  folks  never  took  any  notice  of  him  nor  of 
my  mother  or  me.  I  guess  they  did  not  care  much  about 
him,"  she  added,  nodding  her  head  sagely  to  Guy. 

"My  dear  Joanna,  doubtless  Mr.  Atherton  is  ready  for  a 
cup  of  tea  or  coffee  ;  and  it  must  be  close  upon  our  supper 
hour, ' '  interposed  her  husband  mildly. 

"That's  so,"  exclaimed  his  wife  ;  "and  here  I  am  for- 
getting your  neuralgia  too. ' ' 

"You  may  set  your  mind  at  rest  on  that  score,"  replied 
her  husband  with  a  slow,  amused  smile.  "I  am  suffering 
from  nothing  worse  than  a  desire  to  see  again  my  childish 
haunts.  Nostalgia  is  a  mental  affection." 

"It  is  Greek,  mother,"  put  in  Felix  laughing. 

1  •  Then  I  wish  you  would  talk  good  plain  English, ' '  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Brant  indignantly.  "I  won't  spend  any 
sympathy  on  Greek,"  and  she  bustled  off  to  the  kitchen. 

As  soon  as  she  was  gone  the  conversation  turned  to  the 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  45 

books  lying  on  the  table.  Mr.  Brant  was  in  his  element, 
for  although  he  had  found  plenty  of  clever,  keen  thinkers 
among  the  Silverbush  miners,  it  was  long  since  he  had  met 
with  a  well-trained  and  educated  mind  such  as  Guy  Ath- 
erton  possessed  ;  and  the  young  man,  fresh  from  the  society 
of  scholarly  men,  and  not  long  enough  out  of  college  to 
have  grown  rusty  in  his  classics,  was  amazed  to  discover 
what  an  amount  of  scholarship  and  of  carefully  balanced 
thought  was  stored  up  in  the  mind  of  his  host 

A  very  appetizing  smell  of  cooking  began  to  penetrate 
the  room,  and  soon  Mrs.  Brant  reappeared  to  invite  them 
to  the  supper  table.  In  the  general  conversation  that  fol- 
lowed, Guy  discovered  that  Mr.  Brant  used  to  know  one  of 
the  professors  at  the  college  at  which  he  himself  had  been 
graduated.  Beyond  this  he  made  no  fresh  discoveries,  as 
Mrs.  Brant's  lively  garrulity  was  somewhat  checked  by  her 
attention  to  the  appetites  of  the  party,  and  he  did  not  care 
again  to  bring  in  personal  matters  in  the  presence  of  Mr. 
Brant,  whose  gentlemanly  reserve  might  be  offended  by 
any  effort  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Atherton  to  recall  his  wife  to 
that  subject  Felix  had  evidently  not  inherited  his  father' s 
studious  tastes,  though  apparently  he  knew  enough  to  prove 
that  he  was  the  son  of  a  well-educated  man.  He  did  not 
have  much  to  say,  but  there  cropped  out  in  various  little 
ways  a  genuine  thoughtfulness  for  his  parents'  comfort,  and 
a  thoroughly  honest  affection  for  them  that  pleased  Guy 
better  than  any  amount  of  outward  polish  and  veneer. 

As  it  was  evident  that  Mr.  Brant  was  very  easily  fatigued, 
and  as  Guy  felt  sure  that  he  had  talked  quite  enough,  he 
left  early;  but  not  before  he  had  received  a  hearty  invita- 
tion to  come  again.  Felix  also  had  made  an  appointment 
to  take  him  out  to  Austin' s  Bluffs  and  up  the  Cheyenne  toll 
road. 


46  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

As  soon  as  he  got  back  to  his  room  at  the  hotel,  Guy  sat 
down  to  write  to  Mr.  Lindsay,  as  he  felt  really  anxious  to 
convey  to  him  the  very  good  impression  that  had  been 
made  upon  himself  by  the  Brant  family.  But  after  begin- 
ning his  letter  he  pushed  aside  the  paper  and  decided  to 
write  nothing  until  the  following  day,  when  he  hoped  to 
meet  his  friend  George  Curtis. 

"  It  may  be  that  I  am  really  foolish  to  have  taken  such  a 
liking  to  them,  or  at  least  it  may  look  so  to  Mr.  Lindsay, 
and  I  will  wait  till  I  can  add  Curtis'  opinion  of  them  to  my 
own  impression,"  he  muttered.  "The  old  gentleman  is 
the  only  one  who  seems  disinclined  to  say  anything  about 
his  family  ;  but  if  he  knows  Professor  Rawson,  I  could 
easily  find  out  about  him.  However  it  is  not  his  genealogy 
that  I  am  in  search  of.  I  don' t  believe  that  there  is  any 
chance  of  getting  anything  very  satisfactory  in  a  legal  point 
of  view  for  Mrs.  Brant' s  claim ;  but  of  course  I  must  find  out 
all  there  is  to  be  said  in  case  it  should  be  pressed,"  and 
with  this  determination  he  put  away  his  writing  materials 
and  betook  himself  to  bed. 

The  next  day  Guy  found  his  friend  Curtis  who  had  come 
in  from  his  ranch,  and  from  him  he  learned  more  about  the 
Brants.  They  were  evidently  much  liked  and  highly  es- 
teemed by  those  who  knew  them;  but  Curtis  remarked  that 
they  were  very  poor. 

"The  son  does  any  work  that  he  can  get  hold  of ;  but  he 
cannotgo  off  on  a  ranch  and  leave  them  until  he  has  some  idea 
where  to  settle  them.  Mr.  Brant  cannot  stand  this  climate 
any  longer;  it  is  affecting  his  nerves  and  heart,  the  doctor 
says ;  but  I  don' t  see  how  they  are  to  get  East,  nor  what 
they  are  to  live  on  if  they  do  get  there, ' '  he  said. 

"  How  did  a  man  like  Mr.  Brant  come  to  be  out  here  at 
all?"  asked  Guy.  "He  seems  to  be  a  remarkably  well- 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  47 

educated  man,  and  he  looks  as  though  he  had  always  been 
a  student.  I  cannot  imagine  him  as  coming  West  in  search 
of  gold  or  from  a  mere  mania  for  adventure." 

' '  I  don' t  know, ' '  replied  Curtis.  '  •  I  never  heard  any- 
thing about  his  family;  but  I  believe  he  settled  in  Kansas 
City  about  twenty  years  ago,  and  then  some  weakness  of  the 
lungs  sent  him  up  here  after  the  doctors  began  to  find  out 
that  Colorado  was  a  good  place  to  get  rid  of  lung  troubles. 
He  has  been  here  for  eight  or  nine  years,  engaged  in  home 
missionary  work  in  different  mining  camps.  But  any 
threatened  lung  trouble  has  been  cured  long  ago,  and  now 
the  altitude  is  just  sending  his  nervous  system  to  the  dogs." 

1 '  I  noticed  that  he  was  very  shaky,  and  that  occasionally 
he  seemed  to  have  a  little  difficulty  in  holding  the  thread  of 
his  discourse,"  remarked  Guy;  "but  I  thought  that  was  due 
to  his  age." 

"Age?  Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Curtis.  "The  man  is 
not  much  over  fifty." 

"You  amaze  me,"  said  Guy.  "He  looks  fifteen  years 
older  than  Professor  Rawson ;  and  he  is  fifty,  I  know. 

"Ah,  well,  you  cannot  always  judge  of  a  man's  age  from 
his  looks.  I  imagine  that  Mr.  Brant  always  looked  older 
than  his  years,  even  when  he  was  a  young  man ;  but  now  I 
have  not  the  least  doubt  that  getting  to  a  more  suitable 
climate  would  make  an  immense  difference  in  his  strength," 
replied  Curtis;  "and  if  I  had  the  money,  I  would  gladly  pay 
his  way  East  But  it  is  no  use  to  speak  of  that;  for  first  of 
all,  I  have  only  just  enough  to  scratch  along  upon  myself; 
and  second,  I  believe  that  it  would  seriously  offend  both 
him  and  his  son  if  I  were  to  make  such  an  offer." 

There  was  evidently  little  chance  of  getting  any  more  in- 
formation about  Felix  Merrivale;  and  as  Guy  Atherton  had 
other  business  to  attend  to,  he  did  not  care  to  spend  any 


48  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

more  time  in  Colorado  Springs  than  he  was  obliged  to. 
Taking  leave  of  his  friend,  he  sauntered  out  Nevada  Avenue 
toward  the  house  where  the  Brants  were  living.  He  in- 
tended to  suggest  to  Felix  that  they  should  drive  out  to 
Austin's  Bluffs  together;  but  when  he  came  opposite  the  lit- 
tle gate  he  saw  only  Mrs.  Brant  sitting  on  the  porch.  She 
had  some  sewing  in  her  lap,  but  she  had  evidently  recog- 
nized him  farther  down  the  street,  for  she  nodded  pleas- 
antly and  asked  him  to  come  in  and  rest  The  sun  was 
shining  brightly,  and  the  warmth  reminded  Guy  of  June. 

"I  can  hardly  believe  that  we  are  in  December,"  he 
said,  as  he  glanced  at  the  thermometer  hanging  against  a 
post  of  the  porch.  "  It  is  actually  at  seventy." 

Mrs.  Brant  laughed  as  she  pointed  to  a  couple  of  charred 
logs  lying  on  the  ground  beside  the  porch. 

"I  had  to  haul  those  out  of  the  stove,"  she  explained. 
"  My  husband  is  too  weak  to  stand  any  extra  heat,  and  even 
the  little  spark  of  fire  that  I  had  smouldering  in  the  stove 
made  him  feel  smothered.  I  can' t  ask  you  in,  for  I  have 
just  got  him  to  lie  down  in  the  sitting  room  to  try  to  take  a 
nap.  It  is  really  nicer  sitting  outside,  I  think." 

Guy  hastened  to  assure  her  that  he  much  preferred  to  sit 
where  he  could  watch  the  ever-changing  lights  on  the  grand 
mountain  range. 

"Yes,  it  is  a  real  pretty  sight,"  assented  Mrs.  Brant,  "and 
I  don't  think  I  could  stand  Kansas  after  this.  It  used  to 
seem  the  flattest,  dreariest  place  to  me  out  on  those  big 
prairies,  even  before  I  had  been  among  the  mountains,  and 
now  of  course  it  would  be  worse. ' ' 

"Are  you  thinking  of  going  back  to  Kansas?"  asked 
Guy. 

"I  can't  tell,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant,  shaking  her  head 
sadly.  "If  we  had  any  one  to  go  to,  we  might  try  it;  but 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  49 

I  don' t  see  where  we  could  go.  I  don' t  know  of  any  rela- 
tions since  my  uncle  and  aunt  died ;  and  Mr.  Brant  don' t 
ever  say  that  he  has  anybody  who  would  care  to  see  him  in 
the  East  It  seems  as  though  the  young  men  are  not 
wanted  back  your  way  when  they  have  once  come  out 
West.  At  least  nobody  ever  seemed  to  care  about  my 
father;  and  I  know  that  nobody  writes  or  makes  any  inquiries 
about  my  husband." 

"Maybe  both  of  them  forgot  to  write  to  their  friends," 
suggested  Guy.  ' '  When  your  father  came  West,  commu- 
nication was  much  harder,  and  young  men  stirring  about 
to  try  to  make  a  living  in  a  new  region  have  not  much  time 
or  thought  to  answer  letters." 

1 '  Maybe  so,  maybe  so, ' '  replied  Mrs.  Brant.  ' '  At  any 
rate,  Mr.  Brant  only  says  that  his  parents  are  both  dead, 
and  he  has  no  near  kin,  and  he  don' t  know  where  to  write 
to  anybody  who  is  any  kin  at  all  to  him ;  and  as  for  me  I 
only  know  that  my  father  had  a  sister  called  Miss  Jessica 
Merrivale,  for  a  letter  of  hers  was  among  my  mother's 
things.  Felix  once  wanted  me  to  write  to  see  if  she  was 
still  living,  but  the  letter  was  not  pleasant  enough  to  make 
me  care  to  try. ' ' 

Guy  made  no  reply.  He  was  wondering  whether  Mrs. 
Winstead  would  feel  the  same  interest  in  the  Brants  that  he 
did  if  she  could  meet  them,  or  whether  the  thought  of  her 
children  would  make  her  look  upon  them  merely  as  inter- 
lopers and  people  to  be  avoided. 

"The  fact  is,"  continued  Mrs.  Brant,  "as  long  as  my 
husband  was  well  we  didn't  want  anything.  Of  course  we 
have  had  pretty  rough  times;  but  from  the  day  we  were 
married  till  now  I  never  have  had  anything  worth  complain- 
ing of;  but  I'm  free  to  confess  that  now  it  is  a  pretty  hard 
trial  of  faith  to  see  him  as  he  is  and  not  to  be  able  to  do  a 

D 


5O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

thing  but  watch  him  grow  worse. ' '  A  big  tear  rolled  sud- 
denly down  her  sunburned  cheek  and  dropped  on  her  work. 

She  raised  her  hand  and  dashed  away  almost  fiercely  the 
one  that  was  gathering  on  the  other  cheek  and  looking 
straight  at  Guy  exclaimed  defiantly  : 

"You  need  not  think  that  I'm  only  considering  myself. 
I  have  not  worked  hand  in  hand  with  a  man  like  him  all 
these  twenty  years  without  knowing  the  good  that  he  has 
done;  and  there  is  one  thing  that  I  will  say:  it  is  a  good 
servant  that  the  Almighty  will  lose  out  of  this  world  if  it  has 
got  to  be  that  Alfred  Brant  is  taken  out  of  it  in  his  prime, 
as  I  may  say." 

With  all  the  queer  abruptness  of  her  manner  and  speech 
there  was  such  real  and  unconscious  pathos  in  her  eyes 
that  Guy's  heart  was  touched. 

' '  You  must  not  look  on  the  dark  side, ' '  he  said.  ' '  Your 
son  tells  me  that  he  is  sure  of  work,  and  his  whole  thought 
seems  to  be  to  care  for  you  and  his  father." 

"  He' s  a  good  boy,  Felix  is,"  said  Mrs.  Brant  emphati- 
cally, with  motherly  pride.  ' '  But  there !  a  man' s  will  can' t 
do  everything.  My  husband  always  says  that  we  must  be 
ready  to  seek  out  the  Lord's  will,  and  to  do  that,  or 
nothing  can  go  well  with  us;  but  I  believe  I'm  afraid  to  do 
that,  for  fear  it  should  run  crosswise  to  my  own. ' ' 

She  sighed  wearily,  but  at  that  moment  the  gate  clicked 
and  Felix  appeared. 

"I  was  down  at  the  hotel  looking  for  you,"  he  said. 
"It  is  late  to  walk  any  distance." 

"  I  came  up  to  suggest  the  same  thing  to  you,"  replied 
Guy,  ' '  and  I  was  going  to  get  a  horse  and  buggy  at  the 
livery  stable  if  you  will  go  with  me. ' ' 

Felix  readily  agreed  to  this  plan,  but  Mrs.  Brant  looked 
up  with  her  usual  sharp,  practical  glance,  and  exclaimed : 


THE    LAWYER    IN    COLORADO  $1 

"  If  you  are  going  to  drive  out  to  Austin' s  Bluffs,  you 
must  stop  first  and  get  your  overcoat ' ' 

' '  I  hardly  think  that  I  need  an  overcoat  with  the  ther- 
mometer at  seventy,"  remarked  Guy  laughing. 

"That  just  shows  that  you  are  a  tenderfoot  and  need 
somebody  to  look  after  you,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant,  as  her 
son  went  softly  into  the  house.  "This  country  is  like 
nothing  so  much  as  our  own  hearts.  They  are  all  warm  and 
comfortable  as  long  as  the  grace  of  God  shines  upon  us; 
but  as  soon  as  a  cloud  or  a  mountain  of  trouble  comes  in 
the  way,  our  hearts  are  cold  and  frozen  in  the  shadow. 
Now  take  my  word  for  it  that  you  will  need  your  overcoat 
before  you  get  back  And  see  here,  don' t  you  go  off  with 
any  mistake  in  your  mind.  If  the  Lord  sees  fit  to  let  me 
have  my  will,  all  right;  but  if  he  does  not,  my  will  has  got 
to  straighten  with  his,  anyway.  There  comes  Felix  back 
again,  and  you  had  better  be  off." 

She  had  been  vexed  with  herself  for  betraying  her  weak- 
ness to  this  young  man,  but  this  bit  of  practical  advice  and 
spiritual  wisdom  helped  to  restore  her  mental  equilibrium; 
and  gathering  up  her  work  she  prepared  to  go  into  the  house, 
while  the  two  young  men  went  to  the  livery  stable. 

4 '  The  fact  is, ' '  she  remarked  to  her  husband,  when  she 
was  telling  him  later  in  the  afternoon  of  Guy's  call,  "I 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself,  letting  go  my  faith  that 
way  right  in  the  sight  of  a  young  man  who  for  all  I  know 
has  not  got  enough  faith  himself  to  catch  hold  of,  let  alone 
letting  go  of  it  again;  and  then  to  think  of  all  the  mercies 
that  I'  ve  had  all  these  years  ;  and  here  we  are  with  a  good 
roof  and  all  furnishings  right  at  our  hand,  just  because  the 
Nolans  needed  somebody  to  look  after  this  house  till  they 
get  it  rented  or  sold.  Well,  well,  the  Almighty  does  need 
to  have  a  heap  of  patience  with  me." 


CHAPTER  V 

TO   ASK   STRANGERS    HERE 

MR.  LINDSAY,  sitting  at  his  desk  in  the  little  office  on  the 
third  floor  at  16  Cedar  Street,  was  busy  opening  the 
morning  mail  that  the  postman  had  just  left  for  him.  One 
among  the  pile  of  letters  was  directed  in  the  handwriting  of  his 
partner,  Mr.  Guy  Atherton,  and  it  appeared  to  cause  him  a 
great  deal  of  thought.  At  the  end  of  the  first  page  he  gave 
a  satisfied  nod ;  at  the  end  of  the  second  page  he  looked 
annoyed ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  whole  he  laid  it  down  with 
a  very  unusual  expression  of  uncertainty  upon  his  face.  He 
puckered  his  brows  and  pondered  for  a  minute,  and  then 
he  took  up  the  sheet  and  read  it  all  over  again.  When  at 
last  he  laid  it  aside  he  glanced  at  the  window.  Snow  was 
whirling  down  outside  in  fine  dry  flakes,  and  already  the 
window  sill  and  the  roofs  of  the  opposite  houses,  were  well 
piled  with  the  wintry  covering.  He  got  up  and  looked 
down  into  the  street.  The  prospect  was  not  any  better; 
however,  he  seemed  to  have  made  up  his  mind.  Returning 
to  his  desk  he  rapidly  ran  through  the  remaining  letters  and 
then  examined  a  railroad  time-table,  and  consulted  his 
watch. 

"John,"  he  called  to  the  office  boy,  who  was  visible 
through  the  open  doorway  of  a  small  adjoining  room,  "I 
have  to  go  out.  If  any  one  calls,  say  that  I  shall  be  in  at 
twelve  o'  clock. ' ' 

Then  he  tucked  his  partner's  letter  away  in  an  inside 
pocket,  and  muffling  himself  up  to  face  the  storm,  he  de- 
52 


TO    ASK    STRANGERS    HERE  53 

scended  the  long  flights  of  stairs  and  walked  rapidly  away 
through  snow  and  wind  in  the  direction  of  the  railway  sta- 
tion, where  he  bought  a  ticket  for  Briarley  and  settled  him- 
self comfortably  in  the  car. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  farmhouse  his  quick, 
decided  ring  brought  Jane  to  the  door  in  a  hurry.  She 
recognized  the  lawyer,  who  used  to  come  more  frequently  in 
former  days;  and  as  his  appearance  then  had  generally 
been  the  herald  or  the  result  of  some  worry  about  the 
"boys,"  she  went  with  no  very  cheerful  countenance  to  call 
Mrs.  Winstead. 

That  lady,  however,  put  aside  her  books  quietly  and  told 
Jessica  and  Helen  exactly  how  to  continue  their  lessons  be- 
fore she  left  the  schoolroom,  and  when  she  entered  the 
parlor  and  greeted  Mr.  Lindsay  there  was  no  excitement  or 
anxiety  in  her  manner  or  voice. 

"I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Atherton,"  he 
began  in  short,  dry  tones  ;  ' '  and  I  am  satisfied  from  what 
he  tells  me,  that  there  can  be  no  claim  advanced  that  would 
stand  in  a  court  of  law.  There  are  no  witnesses  forthcom- 
ing to  the  marriage  of  Mr.  Felix  Merrivale  to  Miss  Ruth 
Harris,  and  the  place  where  such  a  marriage  could  have 
taken  place  is  uncertain  owing  to  the  original  certificate  be- 
ing torn  and  the  name  of  the  place  in  consequence  illegible. 
Mrs.  Brant,  who  claims  to  be  Mr.  Felix  Merrivale' s  daugh- 
ter, has  apparently  no  relatives  living,  and  probably  no 
friends  who  could  prove  that  she  was  really  the  child  of  Mr. 
Felix  Merrivale,  even  if  his  marriage  was  incontestably 
proved.  With  these  two  links  in  the  chain  of  evidence  lack- 
ing, I  think  that  you  may  rest  easy  concerning  any  claim 
made  by  these  people. ' ' 

' '  Does  Mr.  Atherton  say  anything  about  the  people  them- 
selves ? ' '  asked  Mrs.  Winstead.  ' '  I  have  learned  through 


54  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

our  pastor,  Mr.  Marshall,  that  there  is  in  Colorado  a  Mr. 
Alfred  T.  Brant,  who  is  highly  esteemed  as  an  accom- 
plished scholar  and  also  a  very  zealous  missionary. ' ' 

' '  Ah,  you  have  heard  that,  have  you  ? ' '  said  Mr.  Lind- 
say abruptly.  "Then  I  can  only  say  that  Mr.  Atherton's 
account  corresponds  with  what  you  have  heard,  and  he  re- 
ports the  condition  of  the  family  much  as  the  son  described 
it" 

As  he  spoke  he  laid  before  her  the  letter  and  turned  his 
attention  to  the  gradual  warming  of  his  feet 

Mrs.  Winstead  took  the  letter  and  read  it  through  care- 
fully. Mr.  Atherton,  after  explaining  the  impossibility  of 
any  legally  satisfactory  proof  of  the  relationship,  went  on  to 
show  that  the  integrity  of  Mr.  Brant,  and  the  simple  and 
straightforward  frankness  of  Mrs.  Brant,  gave  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  story  was  correct,  and  he  wrote  quite 
warmly  about  the  difficulties  in  which  they  found  them- 
selves. When  she  had  finished,  Mrs.  Winstead  looked  up 
at  Mr.  Lindsay  with  an  expression  of  distress. 

' '  This  is  very,  very  sad, ' '  she  said,  ' '  and  really  they  must 
be  our  cousins.  Mr.  Atherton  is  convinced  that  there  is  no 
deception  practised." 

Mr.  Lindsay  bowed  gravely  and  said  nothing. 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Winstead 
urgently. 

"My  dear  madame,  I  have  not  seen  these  people,  and 
therefore  my  opinion  is  of  no  account  Legally  you  are  en- 
tirely free  to  act  as  though  you  had  never  heard  of  them, 
and  apart  from  the  legal  question,  I  have  only  to  take  your 
instructions,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay. 

"But  this  is  not  only  a  legal  question,"  said  Mrs.  Win- 
stead,  her  cheeks  flushing  but  her  voice  clear  and  steady. 
' '  If  they  are  really  our  cousins  they  must  have  their  share  just 


TO    ASK    STRANGERS    HERE  55 

as  Aunt  Jessica  intended.  I  will  be  no  party  to  any  attempt 
to  cheat  them,  for  it  would  be  only  cheating  if  I  were  to 
keep  what  I  am  sure  that  I  have  no  right  to,  even  though 
they  cannot  force  me  by  law  to  give  up  •  their  share  to 
them." 

Mr.  Lindsay  smiled  a  little  cynically,  but  he  only  said: 
"  If  you  are  thinking  of  making  them  a  present  of  half  of 
your  children's  property,  I  must  remind  you  that  you  have 
no  right  to  do  that ' ' 

1  •  What  do  you  mean  ? ' '  asked  Mrs.  Winstead  confused. 
"Surely  I  am  the  only  heir  to  Aunt  Jessica's  property.  It 
was  left  to  me,  not  to  my  children." 

' '  You  certainly  inherit  as  your  father' s  heir, ' '  replied  Mr. 
Lindsay;  "but  Miss  Jessica  was  particular  about  having  a 
marriage  settlement  drawn  up  before  your  marriage.  Your 
father,  having  no  money  to  leave  or  give  to  you,  had  paid 
no  attention  to  that  matter,  and  it  was  Miss  Merrivale  who 
came  to  me  and  gave  me  instructions  to  draw  up  that  docu- 
ment by  which  any  property  that  might  come  to  you  should 
be  held  in  trust  for  your  children,  you  receiving  a  life  in- 
terest. ' ' 

' '  Then  nothing  could  have  been  done,  even  if  Mrs.  Brant 
had  all  the  necessary  proofs,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead. 

' '  Oh,  yes,  for  in  that  case  it  would  be  proved  to  your 
trustees  that  the  property  ought  to  have  been  divided  be- 
tween yourself  and  Mrs.  Brant  at  your  aunt' s  death,  and  of 
course  the  division  would  have  to  be  made  and  the  interest 
for  all  those  years  on  Mrs.  Brant' s  share,  would  have  to  be 
refunded. ' ' 

"Oh,  that  would  be  very  difficult  to  do,"  said  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  in  dismay. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay  ;  "but  that  is  all  settled  by 
the  discovery  that  no  good  claim  can  be  made  against  you." 


56  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"I  cannot  let  it  rest  like  that, "  murmured  Mrs.  Winstead 
thoughtfully.  "Something  must  be  done  for  them  if  they 
are  really  our  cousins."  Then  she  suddenly  looked  up 
with  a  brightening  face  and  asked,  "  Could  not  the  children 
join  with  me  in  requesting  that  a  sum  should  be  given  to 
Mrs.  Brant  ?  I  imagine  that  a  moderate  sum  would  look 
like  riches  to  her,  and  she  has  only  one  son,  and  he  is  old 
enough  to  earn  for  himself,  so  that  really  she  does  not  need 
as  much  to  make  her  comfortable  as  I  and  my  children  do." 

• '  None  of  your  children  are  yet  of  age,  unless  the  oldest 
perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay  inquiringly. 

"No,  Bertha  is  not  twenty  yet,  and  Helen,  the  youngest, 
is  only  ten,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead.  "I  really  do  not  see 
that  I  can  do  anything. ' ' 

"  It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should  do  anything, ' '  re- 
iterated Mr.  Lindsay.  ' '  I  will  write  to  Mr.  Atherton  and 
tell  him  that  he  has  done  all  that  is  necessary  and  the  mat- 
ter can  now  be  dropped. ' ' 

"I — well,  yes — I  suppose — "  began  Mrs.  Winstead  hesi- 
tatingly. "Could  it  not  wait  a  little  while?"  she  con- 
cluded with  an  air  of  entreaty. 

"Certainly,  I  can  wait  your  pleasure,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay. 
' '  Mr.  Atherton  must  be  in  Denver  by  this  time,  and  his 
business  there  will  keep  him  occupied  at  least  a  week.  I 
instructed  him  to  gather  all  the  information  that  he  could 
without  making  known  that  the  Merrivale  family  was  in  any 
way  connected  with  these  inquiries,  for  in  that  way  he  was 
much  more  likely  to  come  at  the  truth.  Now,  as  soon  as 
you  wish  me  to  do  so,  I  will  write  to  this  Felix  Brant  and 
tell  him  that  his  claim  is  worth  nothing,  and  that  any 
attempt  to  press  it  will  only  involve  him  in  expenses  for 
which  he  will  gain  no  return. ' ' 

As  he  spoke,  Mr.  Lindsay  rose  and  prepared  to  make  his 


TO    ASK    STRANGERS    HERE  57 

way  back  to  the  station.  But  Mrs.  Winstead  seemed  per- 
plexed and  she  passed  her  hand  over  her  brow  with  a  wor- 
ried air. 

"I  suppose  that  I  could  ask  them  to  come  on  here,"  she 
began  hesitatingly,  ' '  but ' ' 

Mr.  Lindsay  was  already  out  in  the  hall  putting  on  his 
overshoes,  and  he  offered  no  suggestion  when  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  followed  him  out  there.  He  said  good-bye  pleasantly. 

1 '  If  you  will  send  me  back  the  letter  of  young  Felix  Brant, 
together  with  any  suggestions  that  you  may  desire  to  make 
concerning  the  answer,  I  will  write  to  him  as  soon  as  I  re- 
ceive yours,"  he  said  as  he  stood  in  the  doorway.  Then  he 
put  up  his  umbrella  and  again  bent  his  head  against  the 
storm. 

' '  She  is  a  nice  little  woman,  and  no  doubt  a  good  Chris- 
tian as  Christians  go,"  he  thought  as  he  plodded  through 
the  deep,  newly  broken  snow  on  his  way  back  to  the  sta- 
tion. ' '  But  when  it  comes  to  a  question  of  personal  com- 
fort, people  are  pretty  much  the  same  all  the  world  over. 
She  could  invite  these  people  to  come  to  live  in  the  old 
farmhouse  without  stinting  herself  or  her  children,  but  it 
might  not  be  quite  as  comfortable  to  have  to  get  along  with 
them  at  close  quarters. ' ' 

Mr.  Lindsay  remembered  Felix  Merrivale  as  a  bright 
mischief-loving  boy  in  the  days  when  they  were  both  school- 
boys, and  he  had  under  all  his  dry,  practical  habit  of  life 
and  thought  a  secret  inclination  toward  this  unknown  child 
of  his  old  friend.  He  would  have  been  ashamed  to  ac- 
knowledge anything  so  sentimental,  and  he  rigorously  re- 
frained from  saying  a  word  to  influence  Mrs.  Winstead,  but 
all  the  time  he  had  hoped  that  she  would  want  to  do  some- 
thing for  the  daughter  and  grandson  of  her  uncle. 

While  Mr.  Lindsay  was  hurrying  back  to  Harriton  as  fast  as 


58  THE   MERRIVALE  WILL 

the  train  could  take  him,  Mrs.  Winstead  had  returned  to  the 
lessons  of  the  two  girls,  but  her  thoughts  were  not  on  the 
history  or  French  verbs,  and  she  was  very  glad  when  the 
lessons  were  finished  and  she  could  go  to  her  own  room. 

"If  it  had  only  been  quite  settled  at  the  first,  and  I  had 
received  the  half  of  the  property,  I  could  have  managed," 
she  thought,  "and  even  now  I  would  gladly  give  them  a 
share  ;  but  as  it  is  I  do  not  think  that  it  can  be  my  duty  to 
do  anything. ' '  She  took  out  Felix  Brant' s  letter  and  began 
to  read  it  for  the  twentieth  time,  when  she  was  interrupted 
by  the  hasty  entrance  of  Bertha. 

"Mamma,"  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  "I  quite  forgot  to 
tell  you  that  it  is  the  afternoon  for  the  sewing  circle  to  meet, 
and  I  promised  Mrs.  Marshall  that  I  would  ask  you  if  you 
could  send  any  clothing  for  the  box  they  are  going  to  pack." 

"  Oh,  yes,  dear,  I  am  glad  that  you  reminded  me,"  said 
her  mother.  "There  is  that  old  jacket  of  yours  ;  it  is  too 
small  for  either  you  or  Jessica,  and  Helen  does  not  need  it 
For  whom  are  they  packing  this  box  ? ' ' 

"It  is  to  go  to  a  missionary  in  Kansas  and  there  are 
several  girls  in  the  family,  so  the  jacket  will  be  sure  to  come 
in  right  for  one  of  them,"  replied  Bertha.  "It  is  quite 
good  and  very  warm.  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Marshall  will  be  de- 
lighted to  have  it  They  are  getting  this  box  off  in  time  for 
Christinas,  and  we  are  going  to  put  in  Christmas  cards  with 
the  things  and  some  toys  for  the  little  ones."  She  chat- 
tered away  interestedly  while  her  mother  went  to  her  ward- 
robe to  take  out  a  jacket,  but  Mrs.  Winstead  hardly  heeded 
her  words  for  she  was  thinking  over  the  case  of  the  other 
missionary  in  Colorado  who  was  in  need  of  everything  and 
to  whom  she  was  sending  nothing.  Bertha  noticed  her  in- 
attention and  suddenly  asked  : 

' '  What  did  Mr.  Lindsay  have  to  say  ?     Jane  told  me  he 


TO    ASK    STRANGERS    HERE  59 

was  here.  I  hope  it  is  not  more  worry  about  these  people 
out  West" 

"Not  exactly  worry,  dear,"  replied  her  mother.  "He 
brings  me  word  that  there  is  no  chance  that  they  can  make 
good  their  claim. ' ' 

"Very  well  then,  you  ought  to  look  just  as  cheerful  as  I 
do,  mamma,"  said  Bertha  saucily.  "There  could  not  be 
better  news  than  that" 

• '  But  I  find  that  Mr.  Atherton  who  has  seen  Mrs.  Brant, 
feels  convinced  that  she  really  is  what  she  claims  to  be,  the 
child  of  my  Uncle  Felix,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead.  "  And  they 
are  very  poor  and  in  great  need  of  change  from  that  climate, 
which  is  in  fact  killing  Mr.  Brant" 

"Oh,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  remarked  Bertha  plac- 
idly. "Could  not  you  send  them  some  money,  mamma? 
Through  Mr.  Lindsay  or  Mr.  Atherton  I  mean,  for  of  course 
you  don' t  want  to  be  bothered  with  relations  in  that  hap- 
hazard sort  of  fashion.  They  may  be  very  good  and  worthy 
people  but  no  doubt  they  are  very  tiresome  and  not  at  all 
suited  to  us." 

"  Don' t  make  up  your  mind  in  that  careless  way,  Bertha," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Winstead,  roused  by  her  daughter's  indif- 
ference. "I  did  not  feel  that  way.  On  the  contrary,  I  was 
hoping  that  they  might  be  just  the  kind  of  people  that  we 
should  like." 

' '  But,  mother  dear,  what  does  it  matter  ? ' '  said  Bertha 
good-humoredly.  ' '  They  are  not  coming  here,  and  I  am 
not  going  out  there  ;  so  we  are  never  likely  to  meet" 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  replied  her  mother  quietly. 

' '  Mamma  ! ' '  exclaimed  Bertha  aghast  ' '  You  surely  are 
not  thinking  of  asking  them  to  come  here  ? " 

"Do  you  think  that  it  would  be  a  very  strange  thing  to 
ask  of  people  who  are  our  own  cousins  ? ' ' 


6O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"That  is  just  the  reason  why  you  ought  not  to  ask  them," 
urged  Bertha  "  If  they  were  strangers  it  would  not  matter  ; 
but  we  don' t  want  to  have  rough,  uncouth  people  coming 
here  and  being  introduced  to  all  our  friends  as  our  rela- 
tions. ' ' 

' '  My  dear,  my  dear,  that  is  not  a  kindly  or  a  Christian 
spirit,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  shocked  to  hear  so  bluntly 
from  her  daughter' s  lips  the  very  thoughts  that  had  been  un- 
consciously influencing  her  own  mind. 

The  color  rose  in  Bertha' s  cheeks,  but  as  the  dinner  bell 
rang  at  that  moment,  the  conversation  was  interrupted. 

As  Bertha  went  to  the  sewing  circle  at  three  o'  clock  there 
was  no  chance  to  say  anything  more  about  the  Brants,  and 
Mrs.  Winstead  had  to  keep  her  thoughts  to  herself  until 
Mortimer  came  home,  but  her  mind  worked  all  the  more 
persistently  and  she  was  very  far  from  satisfied  with  herself. 

"  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me,'  "  she  mur- 
mured to  herself.  ' '  And  I  am  trying  only  to  do  enough  to 
quiet  my  own  conscience.  When  I  myself  am  not  inclined 
to  act  in  a  Christian  spirit,  is  it  any  wonder  that  my  child 
speaks  in  an  unchristian  spirit  ? ' ' 

The  result  of  her  self-communing  was  evident  when  she 
found  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  Mortimer  that  evening. 
She  told  him  of  Mr.  Lindsay's  visit  and  the  news  he 
brought  her,  and  then  she  added  : 

"  Now,  my  boy,  I  have  been  thinking  over  what  ought  to 
be  done.  We  have  undoubtedly  found,  by  what  I  cannot 
consider  a  mere  chance,  relations  of  whose  existence  we 
have  been  ignorant  during  all  their  lives.  This  knowledge 
has  been  brought  to  us  just  at  the  time  when  they  are  in 
great  need,  and  I  feel  sure  that  God  has  given  us  this 
knowledge  because  he  has  a  work  for  us  to  do." 


TO    ASK   STRANGERS    HERE  6 1 

"Then  do  you  mean  that  you  think  we  ought  to  let  them 
have  a  share  of  the  property  ? ' '  asked  Mortimer  thought- 
fully. 

"I  did  think  of  that,"  replied  his  mother,  much  relieved 
to  find  that  he  did  not  begin  with  an  indignant  protest  such 
as  Bertha  had  made;  "but  Mr.  Lindsay  tells  me  that  it  is 
impossible,  as  the  principal  is  not  in  my  power." 

"Well,  then,  I  suppose  that  you  could  send  something 
out  of  the  income,"  said  Mortimer  slowly.  "I  don't  sup- 
pose that  it  would  be  very  much  ;  but  when  they  are  so 
hard  up  no  doubt  anything  would  be  a  relief  to  them." 

'  •  The  only  real  relief  would  be  to  get  them  away  from 
the  climate  that  does  not  suit  Mr.  Brant ;  and  to  promise  to 
pay  to  Mrs.  Brant  any  regular  sum  would  oblige  us  to  leave 
the  farm.  I  suppose  that  it  would  be  possible  to  rent  this 
place  and  to  get  a  house  in  Harriton  that  would  cost  us 
less.  Otherwise  I  could  not  offer  anything  that  would  be 
really  of  use  to  them,"  said  his  mother,  as  she  played  ner- 
vously with  a  pencil  that  lay  on  the  table  beside  her. 

"That  would  be  a  bad  alternative,"  said  Mortimer  shak- 
ing his  head  ;  "but  surely  it  would  be  cheaper  to  have  the 
whole  party  here  than  to  split  up  in  that  way. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  drew  a  long  breath.  "Now  you  have 
come  to  exactly  my  own  idea,"  she  said. 

"  It  is  only  a  very  hasty  idea,"  said  Mortimer.  "  I  am 
not  sure  how  it  would  work.  Have  you  suggested  it  to 
Bertha?" 

"Yes,"  replied  his  mother,  "and  she  did  not  like  it  at 
all.  Of  course,  I  see  that  it  means  having  to  do  with  people 
who  are  complete  strangers  to  us,  and  there  may  be  annoy- 
ances, even  though  we  know  that  they  are  good  Christians. ' ' 

"That  is  just  it,"  interposed  Mortimer.  "I  am  away  all 
day  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  could  get  along  all  right 


62  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

with  them  ;  but  for  you  and  the  girls  it  would  be  different, 
so  you  must  think  it  over  carefully. ' ' 

"I  have  thought  it  over  a  great  deal  to-day,"  replied 
Mrs.  Winstead,  "and  I  can  see  all  the  objections  ;  but 
when  I  think  of  what  it  means  to  them  I  cannot  feel  other- 
wise than  that  the  Lord  has  shown  us  this  work  and  that  he 
is  watching  to  see  whether  we  will  take  it  up  and  do  it  as  to 
him,  or  whether  we  will  delay  and  consult  our  own  feelings 
and  likings  until  it  is  too  late  to  save  the  life  of  his  servant, 
who  has  been  spending  his  strength  in  the  Lord' s  work  and 
for  whom  there  may  be  a  great  many  years  of  usefulness  in 
store  if  we  give  this  help  just  now." 

"Then,  mother,"  exclaimed  Mortimer,  "if  you  feel  that 
way  about  it,  I  can  see  only  one  thing  to  do,  and  that  is  to 
ask  them  here  at  once.  I  had  not  looked  at  it  just  that  way, 
but  I  believe  that  you  are  right ' ' 

"My  dear  boy,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  a  comfort  it  is  to 
me  to  hear  you  say  that,"  said  his  mother  earnestly.  "  I 
have  feared  that  you  would  not  sympathize  with  my  feel- 
ing, and  I  was  really  afraid  to  tell  you  exactly  what  I 
thought ' ' 

"You  need  never  be  afraid,"  said  Mortimer  cheerily, 
"for  I  will  back  you  against  any  one  for  seeing  just  the 
right  thing  to  do  and  then  going  ahead  and  doing  it" 

A  light  tap  at  the  door  interrupted  him  and  Bertha' s  face 
appeared. 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  guessed  that  Morti- 
mer was  here  with  you,  mamma,  and  I  also  guessed  that 
you  were  telling  him  about  Mr.  Lindsay' s  visit,  so  I  thought 
that  I  might  come  in." 

"Oh,  yes,  dear,  come  in  ;  I  shall  be  glad  to  talk  with 
you  about  our  plans,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead,  though  Mor- 
timer' s  ear  caught  a  little  tinge  of  nervousness  in  her  tone. 


TO    ASK    STRANGERS    HERE  63 

"Now  you  must  help  me  to  persuade  mamma  that  she 
must  take  her  blessings  cheerfully,"  said  Bertha  gayly,  as 
she  turned  to  her  brother.  "  If  she  has  told  you  the  whole 
story,  you  know  that  this  uncomfortable  affair  is  all  settled 
much  better  than  we  could  have  hoped  for,  and  we  only 
have  now  to  be  thankful  and  to  dismiss  it  all  from  our 
minds. ' ' 

' '  I  don' t  quite  see  that, ' '  replied  Mortimer  bluntly. 
"  The  fact  is  that  mother  and  I  have  arrived  at  an  entirely 
different  conclusion." 

He  did  not  fail  to  notice  from  the  tone  of  both  his  mother 
and  his  sister  that  there  had  been  some  disagreement  be- 
tween them  ;  and  Mortimer' s  way  always  was  to  speak  his 
mind  clearly,  unless  he  saw  that  it  would  be  advisable  to 
hold  his  tongue  altogether. 

Bertha  made  a  pretty  little  pucker  of  her  rosy  lips,  that 
was  meant  to  indicate  good-tempered  expostulation. 

"  You  must  not  try  to  persuade  our  dear,  good  mamma, 
who  believes  that  she  is  sent  into  the  world  to  befriend 
everybody  in  trouble,  that  she  ought  to  saddle  herself  with 
these  people,  just  because  they  cannot  succeed  unaided  in 
making  us  uncomfortable." 

"Don't  joke,  dear,"  interposed  Mrs.  Winstead.  "I 
really  feel  very  serious  on  this  matter,  and  I  am  very  glad 
to  find  that  Mortimer  understands  me  and  agrees  with  me." 

."What  does  that  mean?"  asked  Bertha,  her  smile  van- 
ishing, and  her  features  beginning  to  take  a  stubborn  set 

"It  means,"  replied  Mortimer,  before  his  mother  could 
reply,  ' '  that  mother  wants  to  help  these  people  who  are, 
we  feel  convinced,  our  cousins,  and  in  great  need." 

"Very  well,  send  them  some  money  and  be  done  with 
it,"  exclaimed  Bertha  petulantly. 

"I  cannot  do  that,  dear,  for  to  give  them  anything  that 


64  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

would  be  of  any  use  to  them  in  this  emergency  would  cost 
more  than  I  could  afford,  as  long  as  we  live  on  this  place. 
But  there  is  a  way  of  helping  them  that  is  within  my 
power. ' ' 

"I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say,"  exclaimed  Bertha 
passionately,  "  and  it  will  spoil  our  home  quite  as  much  as 
if  we  had  to  give  up  Merrivale  farmhouse  altogether. 
Mortimer,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  advise  mamma  to 
ask  strangers  here  in  that  reckless  way." 

"Listen,  Bertha,"  interposed  her  brother;  "you  have 
not  even  heard  yet  what  there  is  to  be  said.  Mother  feels 
that  this  is  brought  to  her  knowledge  just  at  this  time  and 
in  this  way,  as  a  bit  of  work  laid  in  her  hands  ;  and  while 
of  course  I  am  very  glad  that  we  are  not  obliged  by  law  to 
pay  over  a  lot  of  money  that  would  cause,  no  doubt,  a  good 
deal  of  loss  on  both  sides  in  selling  and  getting  property  in 
shape  for  a  division,  not  to  speak  of  all  the  back  interest 
that  we  should  have  to  refund,  still  I  think  that  it  is  hard 
lines  for  Mrs.  Brant  that  she  should  be  left  without  any- 
thing when  she  needs  it  so  badly. ' ' 

"It  is  not  only  that,  my  boy,"  said  his  mother.  "It  is 
that  if  the  Lord  has  brought  to  my  notice  one  of  his  follow- 
ers, and  I  refuse  to  give  the  help  that  I  can  well  afford,  it 
will  be  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  not  to  one  of  the  least  of 
these,  ye  did  it  not  to  me.'  ' 

She  spoke  earnestly  and  solemnly,  but  Bertha  only  bit  her 
lips  and  answered  :  ' '  They  would  think  any  money  a  great 
gain.  Send  them  five  dollars,  or  whatever  sum  you  can 
afford  ;  but  to  have  that  vulgar  boy  and  his  mother  here 
would  be  simply  unbearable.  I  saw  his  letter,  and  I  know 
well  enough  what  he  is  like  and  what  his  mother  must  be." 

Mrs.  Winstead  shook  her  head  with  a  look  of  pain,  and 
Bertha  added  quite  angrily  : 


TO    ASK   STRANGERS    HERE  6$ 

' '  Very  well,  I  shall  say  no  more,  but  we  shall  all  regret 
it  ;  and  I  am  very  much  surprised  that  Mortimer  has  so 
little  refined  feeling.  As  for  me,  I  can,  I  suppose,  go  to 
Aunt  Rachel" 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  talk  any  more  to-night,"  said  Morti- 
mer, who  wished  to  spare  his  mother  ;  and  indeed  it  was  a 
new  thing  to  him  to  see  his  pretty,  amiable  sister  in  such  an 
unpleasant  mood.  v 

"  We  must  all  of  us  ask  for  guidance  from  the  One  whose 
will  we  should  not  merely  consider  ourselves  bound  to  obey, 
but  should  find  it  our  greatest  pleasure  to  obey,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead. 

"  It  will  take  a  great  deal  to  pay  their  fare,"  said  Bertha, 
struck  by  a  new  thought  "Who  is  going  to  buy  their 
tickets  ? ' ' 

"I  must  think  it  over  ;  perhaps  I  can  manage  it,"  said 
her  mother,  trying  to  speak  cheerfully,  but  Bertha  inter- 
rupted triumphantly  : 

"Then  send  them  that  money,  and  let  them  go  to  some 
place  in  the  West  that  will  suit  Mr.  Brant,  instead  of  spend- 
ing so  much  in  traveling  expenses." 

Mrs.  Winstead  only  smiled,  and  as  she  evidently  did  not 
intend  to  discuss  the  subject  further  that  evening,  Bertha 
was  obliged  to  drop  it.  In  her  own  mind  Bertha  was  only 
the  more  determined  to  raise  every  possible  objection. 

"  It  is  a  very  foolish  experiment  and  will  cause  so  much 
trouble  that  I  am  quite  right  to  do  my  best  to  prevent  it," 
she  privately  reflected.  "But  it  was  a  mistake  to  get  angry  ; 
that  never  helps  one  to  get  one' s  way. ' '  Wilh  this  reso- 
lution she  smoothed  the  wrinkles  out  of  her  forehead,  and 
followed  her  mother  and  Mortimer  to  the  sitting  room, 
where  Jack  and  the  younger  girls  were  playing  a  game. 


CHAPTER  VI 
MRS.   WINSTEAD'S  DECISION 

MRS.  WINSTEAD  was  now  eager  to  see  Mr.  Lindsay 
and  to  tell  him  the  plan  that  she  had  in  mind  ;  but 
the  snow  lasted  too  long  for  her  to  go  to  town  that  week. 
Sunday  morning  dawned  bright  and  clear,  and  the  whole 
family  were  able  to  get  to  church  in  spite  of  the  snow-cov- 
ered ground.  Mr.  Marshall's  sermon  was  just  suited  to 
her  frame  of  mind,  and  Mrs.  Winstead  listened  earnestly. 
The  pastor  himself  was  evidently  very  much  absorbed  in 
the  effort  to  impress  upon  his  hearers  the  responsibility  of 
each  one  as  stewards  of  God,  and  he  urged  that  all  that  we 
possess  should  be  looked  upon  as  the  Lord's  property, 
whether  it  be  health,  strength,  personal  advantages,  money, 
or  position,  all  should  be  steadily  used  for  the  Lord's  work 
and  according  to  his  will. 

Mrs.  Winstead  waited  when  the  service  was  over  to  speak 
to  Mrs.  Marshall,  and  the  pastor  came  up  to  her  and, 
shaking  hands  cordially,  said  : 

"I  have  just  heard  from  a  friend  of  mine  who  has  a 
church  in  Kansas  City.  He  writes  to  me  that  Mr.  Brant,  of 
whom  we  were  speaking  the  last  time  that  you  were  at  the 
parsonage,  is  with  him  now.  I  thought,  as  you  seemed  to 
be  interested  in  the  case  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant,  that  you 
would  be  glad  to  learn  that  he  is  at  last  in  a  more  suitable 
climate. ' ' 

"I  am  very  glad,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead,  and  Bertha, 
who  was  near  her,  turned  with  marked  interest  to  listen. 
66 


MRS.  WINSTEAD'S  DECISION  67 

"It  is  just  like  Mr.  Scott,"  said  Mrs.  Marshall  "He 
and  his  wife  are  very  kind-hearted  people,  and,  although 
they  have  only  a  very  moderate  salary,  they  are  always 
watching  to  use  it  to  help  in  the  Lord's  work.  I  thought 
of  them  while  you  were  preaching  this  morning,  my  dear," 
she  added,  turning  to  her  husband. 

' '  Are  they  related  to  the  Brants  ?  ' '  asked  Mrs.  Winstead. 

' '  Oh,  no,  they  knew  them  only  very  slightly ;  but  through 
the  pastor  in  Colorado  Springs  they  found  out  that  Mr. 
Brant  could  pay  his  way  if  only  he  had  some  place  to  stay, 
and  as  he  was  growing  rapidly  worse  in  that  rare  atmos- 
phere, Mr.  and  Mrs.  Scott  sent  them  an  invitation  to  make 
them  a  visit"  Mr.  Marshall  could  not  understand  why 
Mrs.  Winstead' s  face  flushed  so  as  he  spoke,  but  some  one 
came  up  with  some  church  news,  and  he  had  to  turn  away. 

Mrs.  Winstead  took  Mortimer's  arm  as  they  went  out, 
and  when  the  rest  had  gone  a  little  way  ahead  of  them  on 
the  snowy  road,  she  said  :  "I  cannot  delay  any  longer, 
Mortimer.  I  must  send  whatever  I  can  spare  to  Mrs. 
Brant  and  ask  them  both  to  come  here.  I  feel  that  I  am 
letting  strangers  do  my  work. ' ' 

"Don't  worry  about  the  money,"  replied  Mortimer. 
"  The  fact  is,  mother,  I  have  been  saving  as  you  know,  and  I 
had  in  mind  to  make  a  little  investment  of  my  own,  with  the 
idea  of  making  you  a  present  of  a  nice  little  sum  before 
very  long  ;  but  I  really  think  that  you  would  be  better 
pleased  to  have  it  now,  and  to  use  it  for  the  Brants. ' ' 

"You  are  a  dear,  good  boy,"  said  his  mother;  "but  I 
don' t  want  to  take  your  earnings.  What  were  you  going  to 
invest  in  ?" 

"I  had  not  quite  decided,  but  a  man  came  into  our 
office  the  other  day  and  spoke  of  several  good  investments 
in  the  West,"  replied  Mortimer. 


68  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mrs.  Winstead's  brow  contracted,  but  before  she  could 
speak  Mr.  Palmer' s  sleigh  overtook  them  and  Mrs.  Palmer' s 
voice  called  to  her  to  get  in. 

"It  is  too  bad  that  you  should  have  to  plod  all  the  way 
through  this  deep  snow,  when  we  could  just  as  well  have 
called  for  you,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Palmer.  "I  did  think  of 
it  last  night,  but  we  were  late  this  morning  and  I  forgot 
to  tell  James." 

Mrs.  Winstead  smilingly  assured  her  that  the  walk  had 
not  tired  her  in  the  least,  but  she  got  in  as  she  spoke,  for 
she  knew  Mrs.  Palmer' s  impulsive  nature  well  enough  to  be 
sure  that  a  refusal  would  vex  her. 

"Was  not  that  a  beautiful  sermon  ?"  were  Mrs.  Palmer's 
first  words  as  the  horses  started  forward  with  a  merry  jingle 
of  bells.  I  do  wish  that  there  was  something  for  me  to  do 
at  once.  I  never  can  feel  comfortable  after  hearing  a  sermon 
like  that  until  I  have  had  a  chance  to  help  somebody." 

"And  when  you  have  helped  somebody,  then  you  can 
forget  all  about  it  with  an  easy  conscience  until  the  next  ser- 
mon stirs  you  up, ' '  remarked  Mr.  Palmer,  with  a  slightly 
cynical  smile  as  he  tucked  the  sleigh  robes  about  the  ladies. 

"Really  you  are  too  bad,"  said  his  wife  with  a  genial 
laugh.  ' '  But  nobody  can  always  remember,  and  then  we 
don't  always  find  things  coming  up  to  need  our  help." 

1 '  Is  that  your  idea  of  the  way  to  apply  this  sermon,  Mrs. 
Winstead  ? ' '  asked  Mr.  Palmer. 

Mrs.  Winstead  was  never  quite  comfortable  under  Mr. 
Palmer' s  questioning,  for  she  never  felt  sure  when  he  was 
joking  and  when  he  was  serious  ;  but  she  answered  quietly  : 

1  •  I  think  that  those  who  cannot  hope  to  do  as  much 
good  as  you  and  Mrs.  Palmer,  may  take  courage  from  that 
sermon,  for  it  seemed  to  remind  one  that  one' s  whole  life  is 
the  Lord' s,  and  should  be  used  for  his  service. ' ' 


MRS.  WINSTEAD'S  DECISION  69 

"A  thing  that  nobody  does  or  can  remember,"  remarked 
Mr.  Palmer  carelessly.  ' '  Though  I  am  not  a  church-mem- 
ber I  live  in  close  contact  with  very  good  ones  ;  but  take 
my  word  for  it,  Mrs.  Winstead,  the  best  of  them  keep  a 
strong  hold  on  their  own  property.  It  is  so  much  for  the 
Lord,  and  the  rest  I  can  comfortably  enjoy  for  myself,  as  I 
have  given  a  just  share.  As  for  their  lives,  they  hold  that  they 
were  given  to  them  to  enjoy.  If  things  go  as  they  like 
they  take  care  to  thank  the  Lord,  and  if  things  go  badly 
they  take  care  to  pray  to  the  Lord  to  make  them  better  or 
else  they  lay  the  blame  on  the  Lord." 

"Frank,  I  won't  have  you  talk  in  that  dreadful  way," 
interrupted  his  wife,  shaking  her  muff  at  him.  "Mrs. 
Winstead,  he  is  in  one  of  his  critical  moods  and  he  can' t 
be  content  unless  he  picks  everybody  to  pieces.  Don' t  pay 
any  attention  to  him.  I  shall  make  him  give  an  extra 
large  contribution  to  the  Sunday-school  Christmas  entertain- 
ment as  a  penance." 

"I'm  not  dreadful,"  replied  her  husband  good-hu- 
moredly.  ' '  I  am  only  holding  up  the  mirror  for  you  to  see 
yourself.  Remember,  Mrs.  Winstead,  I  have  implicit 
faith  in  my  wife  ;  she  attends  to  the  religion  of  the  house- 
hold, and  she  does  it  very  well  too." 

They  were  just  then  stopping  at  the  gate  of  the  farm- 
house, so  Mrs.  Winstead  stepped  out  and  the  conversation 
was  at  an  end  ;  but  the  effect  was  not  at  an  end,  and  Mrs. 
Winstead  went  to  her  room  thinking  more  and  more  of  the 
way  to  be  really  a  good  steward  of  the  gifts  that  the  Lord 
had  placed  in  her  keeping. 

As  Bertha  came  in  glowing  from  the  walk  through  the 
keen,  frosty  air,  she  peeped  into  the  room  and  said  merrily: 

"That  was  good  news  for  you,  mamma,  that  the  Brants 
are  provided  for  without  any  inconvenience  on  our  part" 


7O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"I  shall  write  to  Mrs.  Brant  and  send  the  letter  as  soon 
as  I  have  seen  Mr.  Lindsay  to-morrow,"  replied  her  mother 
with  quiet  decision,  which  warned  Bertha  that  all  expostula- 
tions would  be  useless  ;  and  the  young  girl  went  to  her  own 
room  with  a  clouded  brow. 

The  next  morning  was  dark  and  cold,  with  a  biting  wind  ; 
but  Mrs.  Winstead  adhered  to  her  resolution  and  went  to 
town  on  the  early  train  that  Mortimer  always  took. 

Mr.  Lindsay  was  in  his  office,  and  he  listened  with  close 
attention  to  her  proposition. 

"I  hope  that  you  do  not  see  any  obstacle  to  this,"  said 
Mrs.  Winstead  anxiously,  "for  I  have  been  troubled  by  the 
thought  that  I  could  do  nothing,  and  this  plan  seemed  a 
great  relief  to  my  mind. ' ' 

"It  is  entirely  in  your  own  hands,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay. 
"If  you  are  willing  to  make  this  arrangement,  no  one  has 
the  smallest  right  to  hinder  you.  And,"  he  added  after  a 
moment' s  thought,  ' '  I  must  say  that  it  seems  to  be  a  very 
wise  decision  on  your  part  Half  the  family  lawsuits  could  be 
avoided  if  the  parties  would  be  wise  enough  to  come  to  some 
agreement  by  which  each  one  would  give  up  a  little  of  in- 
dividual rights  ;  and  in  the  end  all  sides  would  be  the  gainers. 
I  know  that  it  is  not  businesslike  on  my  part  to  tell  you 
this  ;  but  it  is  true,  even  though  it  does  spoil  my  trade, ' '  and 
he  laughed  a  low  chuckle  that  brought  an  unusually  friendly 
expression  into  his  keen  eyes. 

' '  Do  you  think  that  it  would  be  well  to  say  nothing  about 
the  relationship  ? ' '  asked  the  little  lady  doubtfully. 

"Hm,"  said  the  lawyer,  "I  see.  You  think  that  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  relationship  may  cause  trouble.  It 
is  true  that  we  know  very  little  about  the  son,  and  of  course 
if  you  write  to  his  mother  and  invite  her  to  your  house  as 
your  cousin,  he  may  use  your  admission  against  you." 


MRS.  WINSTEAD'S  DECISION  71 

' '  I  had  not  thought  of  that, ' '  said  Mrs.  Winstead  flush- 
ing uncomfortably.  "  I  only  thought  that  unfortunately  one 
of  my  children  does  not  like  the  arrangement,  and  that  she 
might  be  more  ready  to  be  friendly  with  them  if  they  did  not 
at  once  meet  her  as  cousins,  before  she  has  any  chance  to 
grow  acquainted  with  them." 

"Ah,  ha,  that  is  Miss  Bertha's  way  of  looking  at  the 
matter,  is  it  ? "  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  ' '  Well,  well,  she  will 
come  around  all  right  ;  but  perhaps,  as  you  suggest,  it  will 
be  well  to  give  her  time  to  get  used  to  the  idea  of  new  rela- 
tions, and  at  all  events,  as  there  have  been  no  communica- 
tions between  you,  there  can  be  no  reason  why  you  should 
make  any  disclosures  as  to  your  family,  at  least  until  you 
know  Mrs.  Brant  better  than  by  mere  hearsay. ' ' 

"Yes,  that  was  my  idea  exactly,"  replied  Mrs.  Win- 
stead,  relieved  to  find  that  he  immediately  understood  her. 
' '  But  do  you  think  that  they  will  accept  an  invitation  from 
an  entire  stranger  ? ' ' 

' '  That  could  be  easily  arranged  by  sending  word  through 
Mr.  Atherton,  and  I  do  not  doubt  that  you  can  write  such  a 
letter  as  would  remove  any  embarrassment  that  Mrs.  Brant 
might  feel,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay.  "As  for  the  young  man, 
I  can,  if  you  approve,  simply  write  to  him  stating  that  Miss 
Merrivale  is  dead  and  the  Merrivale  property  has  passed  out 
of  my  hands. ' ' 

' '  There  is  the  letter  that  I  wrote  before  I  came  in, ' '  said 
Mrs.  Winstead  unfolding  the  sheet  "  I  can  get  the  address 
from  Mr.  Marshall.  But  about  sending  the  money  for  their 
journey  East  Could  Mr.  Atherton  attend  to  that  ?  I  could 
repay  him  when  he  arrives,  or  I  could  hand  the  money  to 
you,  and  you  could  remit  it  to  Mr.  Atherton." 

1 '  Certainly,  certainly ;  he  will,  I  am  sure,  gladly  act  as 
their  escort  East,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "  I  will  write  at  once 


72  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

to  him — I  believe  that  he  intends  to  return  by  way  of  Kan- 
sas City — and  that  will  be  by  far  the  simplest  way  to  ar- 
range the  whole  matter." 

Mrs.  Winstead  thanked  him  and  took  her  leave,  as  she 
was  now  eager  to  get  home  and  to  dispatch  her  letter. 

' '  Unless  I  am  much  mistaken  this  will  be  an  excellent 
move  for  that  whole  family,"  thought  the  lawyer  as  he 
closed  the  door  after  her.  "A  man  such  as  I  take  Mr. 
Brant  to  be,  will  be  just  the  one  to  have  a  good  influence 
over  that  fine  boy  of  hers  ;  and  as  for  dissensions  and  bad 
blood  between  relations,  although  of  course  it  lines  our 
pockets,  I  never  could  see  the  sense  of  it  where  there  was 
any  possible  chance  of  a  friendly  settlement. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  had  no  intention  of  sending  her  letter 
without  first  showing  it  to  Bertha,  and,  although  the  young 
girl  at  first  opposed  bitterly  the  sending  of  it,  she  at  last 
conceded  that  if  the  Brants  were  asked  merely  to  make  a 
visit  and  no  question  of  relationship  was  raised,  it  would  be 
a  kindly  thing  to  do. 

"Mrs.  Palmer  had  a  foreign  missionary  and  his  wife 
visiting  at  their  house  for  six  months,"  remarked  Mortimer. 

"You  need  not  quote  them,"  hastily  replied  Bertha.  "  I 
know  very  well  that  Mrs.  Palmer  had  been  at  school  with 
that  little  lady,  and  she  was  a  sweet,  refined,  gentle  crea- 
ture, quite  different  from  Mrs.  Brant,  I  am  sure.  But  if 
you  and  mamma  are  determined  to  try  the  experiment,  of 
course  it  is  useless  to  protest  against  it  I  only  prophesy 
that  we  shall  all  be  heartily  tired  of  them  in  a  month. ' ' 

"Do  not  begin  with  that  determination,  dear,"  said  her 
mother  gently.  ' '  We  may  miss  a  great  deal  of  good  in 
life  simply  because  we  focus  our  eyes  to  see  only  what  is  un- 
pleasant to  us." 

"  I  do  not  think  that  it  will  make  much  difference  what  I 


MRS.  WINSTEAD'S  DECISION  73 

think,"  replied  Bertha  ;  "for  when  you  have  these  people  to 
support  it  would  not  be  at  all  the  right  thing  for  me  to  be  at 
home  adding  to  your  expenses,  when  I  can  earn  money  for 
myself. ' ' 

' '  There  ! ' '  exclaimed  Mortimer.  ' '  I  nearly  forgot  to  tell 
you  that  Mr.  Palmer  asked  if  we  knew  of  any  good  teacher 
who  could  take  beginners  who  are  too  young  for  Mr.  Lu- 
beck.  He  knows  of  two  families  in  our  neighborhood  who 
want  a  teacher.  Of  course  I  said  nothing  about  ourselves 
until  I  had  a  chance  to  tell  you,  but  I  thought  that  it  would 
be  the  very  thing  for  you." 

' '  Oh,  I  think  I  have  a  better  chance  to  get  good  pupils  in 
Harriton,"  replied  Bertha.  "  I  suppose  that  Mr.  Palmer  is 
thinking  of  Mrs.  Howe  and  Mrs.  Jackson.  They  will  want 
to  have  the  lowest  possible  terms  and  the  children  have  no 
musical  talent ;  it  would  be  simply  the  most  wretched 
drudgery  to  teach  them." 

"  Going  into  Harriton  would  be  extra  expense  ;  and  then 
if  you  got  pupils  here,  you  need  not  waste  an  hour  a  day 
simply  going  and  coming  in  the  train,"  remarked  Morti- 
mer. ' '  Besides,  you  would  be  able  to  help  mother  with 
Helen  and  Jessica." 

"Jessica  ought  to  be  able  to  take  all  Helen' s  lessons. 
Why  don' t  you  make  her  take  them,  mamma  ?  It  would 
be  good  training  for  Jessica,"  said  Bertha,  turning  to  her 
mother.  "  In  fact  I  have  an  actual  promise  of  two  pupils 
in  Harriton  and  it  would  be  folly  to  give  that  up  for  the 
sake  of  the  Howes  and  Jacksons." 

"What  Mortimer  says  about  the  expense  is  very  sensi- 
ble, my  dear,"  replied  her  mother  ;  "and  besides  that,  you 
know  that  I  dislike  very  much  to  have  you  constantly  going 
in  and  out  on  the  trains." 

"It  would  avoid  all  that,"  said  Bertha,  "  if  I  arrange  to 


74  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

stay  in  town.  The  Misses  Halsey  might  let  me  have  a  room 
and  I  would  then  be  in  the  same  house  with  Aunt  Rachel. 
It  would  be  a  great  advantage  to  me,  for  I  could  hear  good 
music,  and  there  are  friends  of  Professor  Lubeck's  who 
would  help  me  to  get  pupils  ;  and  Kate  Willoughby  and 
her  brother  also  promised  to  speak  to  their  friends. ' ' 

"Have  you  been  arranging  all  this  without  consulting 
me  at  all  ?  "  exclaimed  her  mother,  deeply  hurt 

"I  told  you  that  I  ought  to  get  pupils,"  said  Bertha, 
' '  and  this  plan  would  avoid  all  annoyance  of  having  peo- 
ple in  the  same  house  who  do  not  suit  each  other  ;  and  you 
could  have  more  room,  for  you  could  put  Jessica  in  the 
little  hall  room  and  give  my  room  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant, 
instead  of  using  the  spare  room  for  them. ' ' 

"  Evidently  you  have  thought  out  the  matter  in  all  its  de- 
tails," said  Mrs.  Winstead;  but  she  did  not  dare  to  trust 
herself  to  say  any  more  just  then,  for  her  heart  was  very 
sore. 

Mortimer  had  taken  himself  off,  as  he  had  an  innate  dis- 
like to  discussion  or  disagreement,  and  feeling  annoyed 
with  Bertha,  he  did  not  imagine  that  any  words  of  his  could 
do  any  good,  at  least  not  at  that  time. 

Mrs.  Winstead  now  looked  forward  to  the  Christmas 
week,  as  at  that  time  Miss  Clive  was  coming  to  stay  with 
them,  and  Aunt  Rachel  had  a  strong  interest  in  the  family 
and  peculiar  tact  in  smoothing  difficulties.  In  the  earlier  days 
of  Mrs.  Winstead' s  married  life,  Aunt  Rachel,  though  her 
purse  was  very  slender,  knew  far  more  about  the  anxieties 
and  troubles  that  harassed  her  niece  than  did  Aunt  Jessica, 
and  her  kindly  sympathy  and  little  helpful  ways  had  often 
enabled  Mrs.  Winstead  to  tide  over  some  difficulty  when  she 
had  confided  it  to  Aunt  Rachel,  that  had  well-nigh  dis- 
heartened her  before.  It  was  not  surprising  that  Mrs.  Win- 


MRS.  WINSTEAD'S  DECISION  75 

stead  still  looked  to  her  for  encouragement  and  advice. 
She  had  not  yet  been  informed  of  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Brant, 
as  Mrs.  Winstead  had  not  seen  her  since  her  interview  with 
Mr.  Lindsay,  and  it  was  a  difficult  matter  to  explain  in  the 
space  of  the  short  letters  that  Mrs.  Winstead  had  the  time 
to  write  just  before  Christmas. 


CHAPTER  VII 

PLANS   AND    PERVERSENESS 

THE  next  morning  a  letter  came  from  Miss  Clive  saying 
that  she  would  come  out  the  following  day  if  Mor- 
timer would  stop  at  Miss  Halsey's  and  take  her  and  her 
bag  to  the  station  with  him. 

"I  did  not  expect  to  come  before  the  end  of  the  week," 
wrote  Miss  Clive,  "but  there  are  some  things  that  I  want 
to  talk  to  you  about,  so  I  thought  that  I  would  come  to  you 
a  little  sooner,  as  I  am  sure  that  you  have  no  time  now  to 
come  to  me." 

This  announcement  was  hailed  with  great  delight  by  all 
the  family,  and  when  the  following  evening  Mortimer  care- 
fully escorted  the  little  lady  up  the  front  path,  she  was 
seized  upon  by'all  three  of  her  grandnieces  as  soon  as  she 
set  foot  within  the  front  door.  A  slight  deformity  of  the 
spine  had  detracted  somewhat  from  Miss  Clive' s  height,  and 
her  features  were  too  strongly  marked  for  beauty  ;  but  the 
soft  white  hair  and  the  brown  eyes  that  were  sometimes 
shining  with  love  and  sympathy  and  again  sparkled  as  mer- 
rily almost  as  those  of  a  child,  gave  a  lovely  expression  to 
her  face. 

Mrs.  Winstead  knew  very  well  that  the  children  would 
monopolize  their  aunt  the  first  evening,  but  she  also  knew 
that  Aunt  Rachel  was  not  a  good  sleeper,  and  their  most 
confidential  talks  generally  came  after  the  young  people  had 
gone  to  bed. 

She  therefore  waited  patiently  until  the  merry  evening 
76 


PLANS    AND    PERVERSENESS  77 

was  over,  and  the  two  older  girls  had  gone  with  Aunt 
Rachel  to  her  room.  As  Mrs.  Winstead  had  made  her 
final  inspection  of  doors,  windows,  and  fires,  she  heard 
Bertha  and  Jessica  going  to  their  room,  and  quietness 
reigned  upstairs.  Having  finished  her  roupd  she  looked  at 
Helen  to  be  sure  that  she  was  sleeping  soundly,  and  then 
she  tapped  at  Miss  Clive's  door. 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  guest,  who  was  evidently  expecting 
her.  • '  You  see  how  well  I  am  cared  for.  The  girls  have 
done  everything  for  my  comfort  ;  and  you,  my  dear,  have 
only  to  sit  down  and  let  us  have  a  cozy  chat" 

' '  I  have  been  looking  forward  to  it  all  the  evening, ' '  said 
Mrs.  Winstead,  as  she  seated  herself  in  a  low  chair  beside 
her  aunt.  ' '  But  before  I  begin  upon  my  own  affairs, 
you  must  tell  me  what  you  had  upon  your  mind." 

"  Perhaps  it  will  turn  out  to  be  all  the  same  thing,"  said 
Miss  Clive  with  a  little  smile.  "  I  want  to  know  what  has 
spurred  up  my  little  musician  to  such  strenuous  efforts  to 
earn  money." 

"Has  Bertha  written  to  you  about  that?"  asked  Mrs. 
Winstead  surprised. 

"Yes,"  replied  her  aunt,  "and  feeling,  as  you  know 
that  I  do,  that  a  woman' s  life  should  have  far  nobler  aims 
than  mere  money  getting,  I  was  puzzled  and  troubled. 
Have  you  had  any  losses  that  have  caused  Bertha  to  become 
so  eager  to  earn  money  ? ' ' 

"No,  no,  it  is  not  that;  but  I  must  explain  a  long  story 
to  you,"  said  her  niece,  and  then  she  began  and  told  her 
the  whole  story  about  the  Brants.  "You  see,  auntie,"  she 
said  as  she  finished,  ' '  this  seems  like  a  reminder  to  me 
that  all  the  comforts  and  the  money  that  I  have  possessed 
during  the  last  eight  years,  have  been  given  to  me  that  I 
should  make  the  best  use  of  them  in  doing  God' s  work  and 


?  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

helping  his  servants.  I  have,  you  know,  had  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  and  anxiety  in  former  days,  and  I  feel  sure  that  Mrs. 
Brant' s  trouble  is  brought  in  this  unexpected  way  to  my  knowl- 
edge in  order  that  I  may  do  something  for  her  and  her  hus- 
band. My  idea  was  to  invite  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  to  make  us 
a  visit ;  that  would,  you  know,  add  but  slightly  to  our  house- 
keeping expenses  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  comfort 
that  I  could  give  to  them  ;  but  unfortunately  Bertha  does 
not  like  the  plan  at  all.  She  would  rather  just  send  them 
some  money  and  take  no  further  notice  of  them.  When 
she  found  that  I  was  unwilling  to  give  up  all  intercourse 
with  Mrs.  Brant,  she  seemed  to  be  determined  to  keep 
herself  out  of  all  connection  with  them. ' ' 

' '  I  am  very  sorry  that  it  is  my  pretty,  dainty,  musical 
bird  who  is  causing  you  all  this  trouble,"  said  Miss  Clive 
gravely.  ' '  But  I  do  not  think  that  it  would  be  right  for  you 
to  humor  a  whim  of  Bertha' s  which  is  really  founded  on  un- 
christian feeling,  and  which  would  prevent  you  from  doing 
what  looks  to  me  like  a  plain  duty  put  before  you  by  the 
Lord.  I  know  something  of  Alfred  Brant,  and  from  what 
you  tell  me  he  has  evidently  developed  into  the  kind  of 
man  that  I  expected,  one  whose  whole  life  and  strength  is 
dedicated  to  the  Master's  service." 

"Yes,  that  is  what  I  judge  from  all  that  I  learn  ;  but  if 
you  knew  him,  you  can  tell  me  more  about  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead  eagerly.  ' '  Who  are  his  parents  ?  What  is  he 
like  ?  Do  you  know  any  of  his  family  ? ' ' 

"Wait,  wait,"  said  Miss  Clive  smiling.  "Let  me 
answer  these  questions  before  you  put  any  more.  His 
parents  are  not  living  ;  I  do  not  know  much  about  him  ;  his 
father  died  and  his  mother  married  a  second  time,  and  I  be- 
lieve that  the  relations  between  the  young  man  and  his 
stepfather  were  not  very  cordial ' ' 


PLANS    AND    PERVERSENESS  79 

"Ah  !  perhaps  that  explains  why  he  went  West,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Winstead  thoughtfully. 

"Possibly  ;  but  as  he  talked  very  little  about  his  family, 
and  never  spoke  of  their  private  affairs,  I  do  not  want  you 
to  attach  too  much  importance  to  the  slight  knowledge  that 
I  had  of  them.  Only  I  can  assure  you  of  this,  that  at  the 
school  and  college  where  I  knew  him  he  was  looked  upon  as 
a  very  good  student  and  a  steady  young  man  of  excellent 
principles.  But  now  tell  me  what  you  think  of  doing  about 
our  little  musical  bird,"  concluded  Miss  Rachel,  turning 
aside  from  the  subject  of  the  Brants  as  though  she  did  not 
wish  to  answer  any  more  inquiries. 

"That  is  just  the  point  on  which  I  need  your  advice," 
said  Mrs.  Winstead  with  a  troubled  little  smile.  "Bertha 
is  very  set  in  her  own  way,  though  it  does  not  always  show. 
She  was  very  much  annoyed  at  first  Now  she  is  not  cross 
or  sulky,  but  I  think  she  is  simply  determined  that,  if  she 
can,  she  will  prevent  me  from  inviting  the  Brants." 

"  My  dear  Mary,  that  must  not  be,"  said  Miss  Rachel 
very  earnestly.  ' '  Bertha  is  altogether  wrong  and  the  time 
will  come  when  she  will  see  it  herself." 

"I  think  that  too,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead  ;  "but  I  am 
afraid  that  she  will  be  very  chilling  to  our  cousins  before  she 
finds  it  out,  and  it  may  even  make  them  unwilling  to  stay." 

1 '  Why  not  let  her  try  her  own  plan  ? ' '  asked  Miss  Rachel. 
' '  She  is  old  enough  to  learn  by  experience  better  than  by 
precept,  and  I  have  just  thought  of  an  arrangement — if  it 
can  be  made.  Ann  Halsey  will  soon  give  up  the  big  house 
that  she  has  now — she  says  that  she  and  Rebecca  are  too  old 
to  carry  it  on — and  they  have  taken  a  smaller  house  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street  I  am  like  one  of  the  family  with 
them,  and  they  will  have  room  for  me,  and  in  the  smaller 
house,  where  we  shall  be  just  by  ourselves,  Bertha  might 


8O  .  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

come  to  me,  and  it  would  be  almost  like  a  home  for  her.  It 
would  be  quiet  and  retired  and  you  could  be  sure  that  she 
would  be  well  taken  care  of.  She  wrote  to  me  that  she  had 
already  heard  of  pupils  in  very  nice  families  in  Harriton, 
and  of  course  under  these  circumstances  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  if  she  was  earning  something,  as  you  could  more  easily 
do  something  for  Mrs.  Brant." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead  ;  "  and  also,  Aunt  Rachel, 
I  cannot  feel  sure  that  the  proofs  may  not  be  found  that 
would  give  Mrs.  Brant  the  share  of  property  due  to  Uncle 
Felix,  and  in  that  case  the  children  must  do  for  themselves 
as  far  as  possible.  But  I  am  afraid  that  even  with  the 
pupils  that  she  speaks  of,  Bertha  would  not  be  able  to  pay 
her  board  in  Harriton." 

"Ann  Halsey  does  not  count  on  making  money  by 
boarders,"  said  Miss  Rachel,  "and  if  Bertha  could  pay  just 
enough  to  cover  the  extra  table  expense,  I  am  sure  that  it 
would  be  all  right.  At  first  when  they  talked  of  moving 
and  I  found  that  they  had  really  taken  the  other  house, 
I  felt  pretty  badly,  for  I  am  old  to  change  from  the  room  and 
the  house  that  I  have  lived  in  so  many  years  ;  but  now  I 
think  that  the  Lord  was  planning  all  for  us.  In  the  other 
house  they  had  no  extra  room  and  one  did  not  know  exactly 
whom  one  might  meet ;  but  this  will  be  just  quiet  and  home- 
like. Now  you  must  go  off  and  sleep  over  it,  and  let  me 
know  how  it  looks  to  you  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Winstead  kissed  her,  and  went  away  thinking  to 
herself :  ' '  The  Lord  planned  the  greatest  blessing  to  me 
when  he  planned  Aunt  Rachel.  She  always  sees  a  way  out 
of  difficulties  and  helps  me  over  troubles." 

The  night's  rest  only  made  the  plan  look  more  suitable 
to  Mrs.  Winstead,  and  Bertha,  when  it  was  mentioned  to 
her,  accepted  it  with  great  good-will. 


PLANS    AND    PERVERSENESS  8 1 

"I  am  sure  that  I  shall  soon  have  more  pupils,"  she 
said,  "and  then  I  can  easily  pay  all  my  expenses  and  send 
home  money  that  you  will  find  that  you  need,  mamma." 

"  I  can  suggest  another  pupil  at  once,"  said  Aunt  Rachel. 
"  Mrs.  Davenant  wants  a  teacher  for  her  little  Myrtle." 

"That  dear  little  creature  who  was  out  here  last  summer 
at  Mr.  Palmer' s  ?  "  inquired  Bertha  ' '  Oh,  she  would  be 
just  lovely  to  teach  !" 

Aunt  Rachel  promised  to  write  to  Mrs.  Davenant,  as  she 
was  acquainted  with  her. 

In  the  interest  of  all  these  plans  Bertha  almost  forgot 
about  the  Brants  ;  but  on  Christmas  morning  a  letter  in  a 
strange  handwriting  lay  upon  Mrs.  Winstead'  s  plate  at  the 
breakfast  table.  Mrs.  Winstead  tore  it  open  at  once  and 
Bertha,  who  was  guilty  of  the  impropriety  of  covertly  watch- 
ing her  mother  while  she  read  it,  saw  that  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears. 

As  soon  as  she  had  finished  the  letter  Mrs.  Winstead 
looked  up  and  said  quietly: 

' '  Children,  I  expect  visitors  early  in  January  to  spend 
some  time  with  us." 

Immediately  there  was  a  chorus  of  questions  from  Helen 
and  Jack  that  quite  drowned  Mortimer's  quiet  remark, 
' '  So  you  have  an  answer.  Well,  I  am  glad  to  hear  it ' ' 

Fortunately  the  chatter  served  also  to  cover  Bertha's 
silence,  and  it  was  only  Jessica  who  noticed  the  way  that 
the  news  was  received  by  the  older  ones.  The  children  had 
to  be  informed  of  the  names  of  the  visitors,  and  various 
other  questions  were  showered  upon  their  mother  until  she 
had  at  last  to  tell  them  that  they  must  wait  until  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Brant  could  answer  in  person,  and  made  her  escape 
from  the  breakfast  table.  Bertha  had  already  gone  to  the 
parlor,  and  she  was  standing  by  the  piano  turning  over  her 

F 


82  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

music,  when  her  mother  followed  her  and  handed  her  the 
letter. 

She  took  it  reluctantly.  She  did  not  wish  to  be  appealed 
to,  or  in  any  way  to  appear  to  be  interested  in  the  matter, 
but  she  did  feel  a  little  curiosity  as  to  how  Mrs.  Brant 
would  write  a  letter.  As  her  eye  fell  on  the  yellow  stamped 
envelope  with  the  printed  admonition  in  the  corner  to  return 
if  not  called  for  in  five  days,  she  raised  her  eyebrows  fastidi- 
ously, and  her  expression  as  she  drew  out  the  sheet  of  ruled 
commercial  note-paper  made  Mrs.  Winstead  flush,  half 
with  indignation  and  half  with  disappointment,  but  she 
controlled  herself,  thinking  that  when  Bertha  had  read  it 
she  would  feel  differently. 

It  was  a  warm-hearted,  impulsive  outpouring  of  gratitude 
to  God  and  to  her  unknown  friend  for  the  chance  that  this 
invitation  held  out  to  Mr.  Brant  of  renewed  health  and 
usefulness  ;  and  Mrs.  Winstead,  remembering  vividly  her 
own  distress  when  her  husband  was  ill  and  she  was  in  ex- 
treme poverty,  had  been  deeply  touched  by  Mrs.  Brant's 
wifely  anxiety  for  her  husband  and  her  eager  hope  that  he 
might  be  benefited  by  this  visit.  Bertha,  with  the  indif- 
ference of  a  young  girl  who  has  seen  mainly  the  sunny  side 
of  life,  only  noted  critically  that  ' '  benefitted ' '  was  spelled 
with  two  "t's"  ;  and  where  an  allusion  to  the  necessary  sep- 
aration from  her  son  had  made  Mrs.  Winstead' s  heart  ache 
for  the  lonely  mother-heart  leaving  an  only  child  in  order 
to  come  with  an  invalid  husband  to  total  strangers,  Bertha' s 
quick  eyes  fastened  on  a  faulty  "e"  in  "seperation." 

"I  suppose  poverty  will  serve  to  excuse  the  paper  and 
envelope,"  said  the  girl  carelessly  as  she  handed  back  the 
letter,  "but  that  will  hardly  cover  the  mistakes  in  spelling. 
Still,  on  the  whole,  she  really  writes  and  spells  better  than 
I  expected." 


PLANS    AND    PERVERSENESS  83 

"Are  you  pretending  to  be  so  unfeeling?"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead  irritably. 

"Oh,  mamma,  you  know  that  she  is  a  complete  stranger 
tome,"  replied  Bertha.  "I  can  sympathize  with  people 
that  1  know,  but  to  cry  over  that  letter  would  be  just  like 
crying  over  a  story  book,  all  imagination." 

"I  have  seen  you  cry  over  a  piece  of  music,"  said  her 
mother  gently.  Her  irritation  quickly  vanished,  and  she 
told  herself  that  it  was  only  the  unconscious  cruelty  of 
youth  that  cannot  perceive  what  it  has  never  felt 

"Yes,"  said  Bertha  musingly;  "but  that  is  something 
real.  It  does  not  write  to  you,  it  speaks  to  you,"  she  added 
with  a  little  laugh.  "Now,  mother  dear,  don't  be  vexed 
with  me  because  I  cannot  pretend  what  I  do  not  feel." 

"I  am  not  vexed,  I  am  only  anxious,  dear,"  said  her 
mother. 

"Then  you  need  not  be  that,"  replied  Bertha  gayly. 
' '  You  can  try  your  experiment  and  I  can  try  mine,  and  if 
both  succeed,  so  much  the  better.  But  privately  I  believe 
that  you  will  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  yours,  and  maybe  you 
hope  that  I  shall  be  unsuccessful  in  mine." 

"Oh,  no,  dear,"  replied  her  mother  quickly. 

"At  least  you  think  me  very  self-willed  ;  but  really  I  have 
been  so  good  and  self-denying  that  I  do  deserve  to  have  my 
own  way  a  little  bit  now,"  said  Bertha  saucily.  She  was 
looking  into  a  golden  future  of  unlimited  music,  and  of 
money  belonging  entirely  to  herself  to  do  as  she  pleased 
with,  and  she  was  so  intoxicated  with  the  prospect  that  she 
really  cared  very  little  for  anything  else.  Even  the  Brants 
she  was  almost  willing  to  consider  a  blessing  in  disguise, 
provided  that  she  did  not  have  to  come  in  contact  with 
them,  or  to  own  that  they  were  cousins. 

"  My  child,  you  cannot  make  bargains  with  the  Almighty 


84  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

like  that,"  replied  her  mother  gravely.  "The  Lord  desires 
of  us  that  our  way  should  be  his  way  in  everything,  or  else 
trouble  and  disappointment  are  sure  to  follow." 

"Hush,  hush.  You  must  not  prophesy  evil  on  Christ- 
mas morning,"  said  Bertha  playfully,  laying  both  hands 
over  her  mother' s  mouth  and  kissing  her  forehead. 

Mrs.  Winstead  kissed  the  pretty  hands  as  she  gently  re- 
moved them,  but  she  answered  fervently  : 

' '  I  would  not  prophesy  evil  to  you,  my  child,  for  I  will 
not  believe  that  you  would  choose  the  way  that  is  sure  to 
bring  evil  in  its  train.  God  grant  that  you  may  in  every- 
thing strive  to  know  his  will  and  to  do  it,  and  then  your  life 
will  surely  be  a  happy  and  a  successful  one. ' ' 

With  these  words  she  went  away  to  find  Mortimer  and  to 
show  the  letter  to  him  and  to  Aunt  Rachel.  Bertha  stood 
for  a  short  time  feeling  uncomfortably  puzzled  and  awed. 
Soon,  however,  the  notes  of  the  piano  stole  softly  through 
the  half-opened  door,  and  Mrs.  Winstead  said  sadly  to 
Aunt  Rachel  : 

' '  That  will  efface  all  remembrance  of  my  words. ' ' 

' '  Who  can  tell  when  the  seed  that  is  planted  will  bear 
fruit?"  said  Aunt  Rachel  cheerily.  "And  remember, 
Niece  Mary,  that  your  children  must  learn  to  use  their 
knowledge  for  themselves." 

"If  only  they  don't  make  mistakes,"  sighed  Mrs.  Win- 
stead. 

"They  are  sure  to  do  that,"  replied  Aunt  Rachel 
briskly.  "  Did  you  ever  know  of  a  young  girl  like  Bertha 
getting  at  her  knowledge  and  making  a  good  use  of  it  before 
she  had  first  shoveled  out  a  good  lot  of  ignorance  that  was 
blocking  the  doorway  of  her  usefulness  ? ' ' 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  ARRIVAL  OF  MR.   AND  MRS.    BRANT 

* HE  winter  had  set  in  early  and  showed  no  signs  of  re- 
A  lenting  at  the  beginning  of  the  new  year.  Snow  lay 
thick  over  meadow  and  woodland  around  Briarley  ;  and 
according  to  the  old  adage,  as  the  days  began  to  lengthen 
the  cold  began  to  strengthen.  One  still,  cold  night,  when 
the  snow  lay  frostily  under  foot  and  myriads  of  stars  shone 
with  a  clear,  metallic  light  in  the  dark  blue  vault  over- 
head, Merrivale  farmhouse  was  evidently  in  a  state  of  prepa- 
ration and  expectancy.  Mortimer's  train  had  gone  up  an 
hour  before,  but  the  young  man  himself  had  not  arrived, 
and  the  supper  table  still  stood  untouched.  The  dining 
room  bore  a  particularly  festive  appearance,  and  the  front 
shutters  had  not  been  closed  nor  the  curtains  drawn. 

"  Let  the  light  shine  out  to  greet  them,"  said  Mrs.  Win- 
stead.  "It  looks  more  like  a  welcome  to  people  who 
arrive  in  a  strange  place  after  dark" 

Jessica  and  Helen  were  fluttering  about,  putting  last 
touches  and  talking  eagerly  about  the  expected  guests  ; 
while  Jack,  in  private  inward  disgust  and  outward  calm 
disdain  for  "all  this  splutter,"  had  ensconced  himself  in 
the  schoolroom  with  "The  Last  of  the  Mohicans."  The 
jingle  of  sleigh-bells  and  the  thud  of  horses'  hoofs  on  the 
snow  brought  Mrs.  Winstead  to  the  front  door  just  as  Mr. 
Palmer's  handsome  sleigh  stopped  before  the  little  gate. 
With  the  kindly  thoughtfulness  that  the  Palmers  often 
showed  to  Mrs.  Winstead,  their  sleigh  had  been  offered  to 

85 


86  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

meet  the  guests  who  were  expected  at  the  farmhouse  that 
evening. 

Mortimer  sprang  out  and  then  turned  to  help  out  his  two 
companions  ;  Mrs.  Winstead  saw  that  much  through  the 
starlit  night  and  her  heart  fluttered  nervously  as  she  felt 
that  the  strangers  who  had  come  so  unexpectedly  into  her 
life  were  really  at  the  gate.  But  she  held  out  her  hands 
cordially  as  they  came  slowly  up  the  path,  and  she  drew 
them  into  the  warm  hallway  saying  kindly  : 

' '  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Come  and  warm  yourselves  be- 
fore going  upstairs.  You  must  be  very  cold  and  tired  after 
your  long  journey. ' ' 

Mr.  Brant  removed  his  soft  felt  hat  and  the  rays  of  the 
hall  lamp  fell  upon  his  high,  bald  forehead,  lighting  up  a 
thin,  pale  face,  whitening  hair  and  beard,  and  mild  but 
very  weary-looking  blue  eyes. 

"We  are  certainly  fatigued,"  he  said  in  slow,  gentle 
tones.  ' '  But  we  have  every  cause  to  be  thankful  that  we 
have  been  permitted  to  reach  our  journey' s  end  so  comfort- 
ably and  with  so  little  delay.  The  winter  has  been  very 
severe  in  the  West,  and  many  trains  have  been  delayed  by 
storms. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  felt  the  tears  rising  to  her  eyes  as  she  no- 
ticed his  great  weakness  and  his  gentle,  patient  manner. 
Then  she  glanced  quickly  at  Mrs.  Brant.  That  good  lady's 
stout  figure  was  encased  in  a  thick,  close-fitting  ulster  that 
made  her  look  shorter  and  broader  than  she  really  was. 
Her  bonnet  was  a  neat,  dark  affair  well  suited  to  her  plain, 
sensible  face,  but  it  had  unfortunately  just  received  a  push 
that  had  cocked  it  over  on  one  side  in  a  style  that  forced 
Mrs.  Winstead,  in  her  present  nervous  and  excited  mood, 
to  bite  her  lips  quickly  to  avoid  a  smile.  Mrs.  Brant  her- 
self, whose  keen  gray  eyes  were  watching  her  husband 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  BRANT    87 

anxiously  and  rapidly  taking  note  of  Mrs.  Winstead,  was 
evidently  entirely  oblivious  of  her  own  appearance  or  the 
impression  that  she  might  produce. 

"You  are  just  as  kind  and  thoughtful  as  can  be,"  she 
said  in  quick,  decided  tones.  "Yes,  Mr.  Brant  ought  to 
sit  down  and  rest  before  he  tries  to  walk  upstairs,  for  he  is 
shaky  and  our  heads  are  spinning  with  the  rattle  of  the  cars 
for  two  days  and  nights. ' ' 

Mrs.  Winstead  led  the  way  at  once  into  the  parlor  while 
Mortimer,  who  had  come  in  with  the  satchels  and  wraps, 
helped  Mr.  Brant  off  with  his  overcoat  Jessica  and  Helen 
came  forward  to  be  introduced  and  Mrs.  Brant  greeted  them 
in  an  outspoken,  cordial  fashion  that  set  them  at  ease  with 
her  at  once. 

As  both  her  guests  sat  down  to  rest,  Mrs.  Winstead  drew 
a  sigh  of  relief  as  she  thought  that  the  long-dreaded  and 
nervously  expected  meeting  was  over. 

Mrs.  Brant  was,  however,  far  too  energetic  to  sit  still  long. 
She  heard  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  and  exclaiming  that  she 
was  sure  that  must  be  their  trunk  and  she  had  better  go  and 
tidy  herself,  she  jumped  to  her  feet  To  Mrs.  Winstead' s 
surprise,  Jessica,  who  always  kept  in  the  background  when 
strangers  were  present,  now  came  forward  and  of  her  own 
accord  offered  to  show  Mrs.  Brant  her  room. 

"Yes,  do,"  said  that  lady  quickly.  "I'll  answer  for  it 
that  your  mother  has  had  plenty  of  running  up  and  down 
stairs  to-day,  and  I  would  like  ever  so  much  to  have  you 
just  take  me  in  hand  and  show  me  my  way  about,  so  that  I 
won't  need  to  bother  people  all  the  time.  You'll  have  lots 
to  teach  me  about  Eastern  ways  of  living  and  doing 
things." 

They  disappeared  upstairs  and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Brant  had 
warmed  himself  a  little  and  recovered  his  breath  he  followed. 


88  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mrs.  Winstead  then  went  in  search  of  Jack,  but  he  was  shy 
and  averse  to  making  his  appearance  until  the  tea  bell  rang 
and  he  had  to  come  to  the  dining  room.  At  the  table  he 
ate  his  supper  in  unusual  silence  until  the  talk  drifted  to 
life  in  mining  camps  and  adventures  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. Then  Jack' s  eyes  began  to  sparkle  and  happening 
to  catch  Mr.  Brant's  glance  resting  with  sympathetic  in- 
terest on  his  bright  face,  the  boy  soon  found  his  tongue, 
and  questions  began  to  pour  out  so  rapidly  that  before  long 
his  mother  smilingly  interposed. 

"My  boy,  you  have  evidently  found  a  perfect  mine  of 
interesting  stories  in  Mr.  Brant,  but  as  he  has  had  a  long 
and  tiring  journey,  you  must  take  care  of  him  to-night  and 
see  that  he  has  a  good  supper  and  plenty  of  rest ' ' 

That  was  enough  to  make  Jack  at  once  consider  himself 
as  responsible  for  Mr.  Brant' s  well-being. 

When  their  guests  had  retired  for  the  night,  which  they 
did  very  early,  Jack  remarked  : 

' '  I  hope  that  Mr.  Brant  will  hurry  up  and  get  well,  for  he 
is  going  to  be  just  jolly,  if  only  he  gets  a  little  stronger." 

"I  like  Mrs.  Brant,"  declared  Jessica;  "she  is  not  a 
bit  like  anybody  that  I  have  seen  before. ' ' 

"  She  is  not  finicky  or  nervous,  and  I  should  not  wonder 
if  she  turned  out  to  be  pretty  good  fun — that  is  for  a  woman, ' ' 
said  Jack  grandly. 

After  the  ' '  little  ones ' '  had  gone  to  bed  the  mother  and 
son  sat  down  to  talk  over  the  day. 

' '  I  think  that  you  may  feel  pretty  well  satisfied  thus  far, 
mother,"  said  Mortimer.  "They  seem  to  be  nice,  un- 
affected people,  and  they  are  not  rough  and  coarse  as  Bertha 
had  made  up  her  mind  that  they  would  be  ;  though  I 
must  say  that  it  was  a  fortunate  thing  that  Aunt  Rachel  had 
carried  off  Bertha,  for  that  ulster  and  the  cocked-over  bonnet 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  BRANT    89 

would,  I  am  afraid,  have  spoiled  all  Mrs.  Brant's  chances 
of  finding  favor  in  her  eyes,"  and  he  glanced  comically 
at  his  mother. 

Mrs  Winstead  smiled  dubiously  as  she  answered, 

"  I  am  afraid  that  you  are  right,  dear  ;  but  Bertha  must 
learn  that  the  world  is  not  to  be  judged  entirely  by  rules  of 
prettiness  and  neatness.  I  do  miss  her  sorely, ' '  she  added 
with  a  sigh. 

"Of  course  you  do,"  replied  Mortimer  promptly,  "and 
so  do  I  ;  but  she  will  be  all  the  better  for  spending  a  little 
time  under  Aunt  Rachel' s  wing,  and  she  will  come  around 
all  right,  mother  ;  so  do  not  be  down-hearted.  Now  there  is 
something  that  I  want  to  ask  about.  Of  course  as  soon  as 
Mrs.  Brant  hears  the  name  of  Merrivale  she  will  prick  up 
her  ears  and  begin  to  ask  questions  ;  what  do  you  mean  to 
tell  her?" 

"Exactly  the  truth,  my  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  de- 
cidedly. 

' '  Then  I  suppose  the  matter  will  soon  get  talked  about 
and  Bertha  will  be  very  cross, ' '  said  Mortimer  doubtfully. 

• '  Oh,  no, ' '  replied  his  mother  confidently.  • '  Bertha  will 
come  out  soon  to  see  us,  and  then  she  will  meet  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Brant  and  her  feelings  will  change.  Indeed,  before 
she  left  she  seemed  to  feel  more  pleasantly  about  the  mat- 
ter. I  think  that  sometimes  the  mere  fact  of  speaking  out 
all  their  disagreeable  feelings  makes  persons  ashamed  of 
them.  A  grievance  will  look  very  small  when  spoken  of, 
though  if  brooded  over  it  would  grow  to  an  enormous  size." 

She  spoke  so  cheerfully  and  confidently  that  Mortimer 
could  not  bring  himself  to  suggest  that  Bertha's  pleasant- 
ness was  far  more  due  to  the  fact  that  she  saw  everything 
fitting  in  exactly  to  suit  her  wishes,  than  to  any  shame  at 
her  own  words.  The  sound  of  footsteps  on  the  porch  pre- 


9O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

vented  any  further  conversation  and  relieved  Mortimer  from 
the  necessity  of  making  any  reply. 

"It  is  late  for  any  one  to  call  in  the  country,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead,  glancing  at  the  clock  which  was  on  the  stroke  of 
nine.  "  I  hope  it  is  not  a  telegram  or  bad  news." 

But  Mortimer  was  already  opening  the  front  door  and  in 
another  moment  Mrs.  Winstead  heard  the  sound  of  a  man' s 
voice  which  she  recognized  with  a  slight  frown.  She  had 
scarcely  time  to  smooth  her  forehead  before  Mark  Wil- 
loughby  entered  the  room,  saying  courteously : 

' '  I  am  ashamed  to  disturb  you  so  late,  Mrs.  Winstead, 
and  on  the  first  evening  of  your  friends'  arrival,  but  when 
Miss  Bertha  heard  that  I  was  coming  out  here  this  evening 
with  Kate  she  commissioned  me  to  ask  for  some  of  her 
music  that  she  needs.  I  believe  it  is  something  that  Kate 
and  Miss  Bertha  wish  to  practise  together." 

Mark  Willoughby  could  be  very  agreeable  when  he  was  in 
the  mood,  and  this  evening  his  manner  to  Mrs.  Winstead 
was  faultless.  She  found  herself  unconsciously  relaxing 
her  feeling  of  distrust  as  she  talked  with  him  while  Mor- 
timer busily  turned  over  the  sheets  of  music  at  the  piano. 
But  when  the  music  was  all  found  and  tied  up  and  Mr. 
Willoughby  had  gone  off,  she  recalled  with  painful  distinct- 
ness that  she  had  warned  Bertha  the  evening  before  her 
departure,  not  to  be  drawn  into  any  intimacy  with  Kate  and 
Mark  Willoughby. 

•  •  My  words  did  not  make  much  impression,"  she  thought, 
and  as  Mortimer  returned  to  the  room  after  locking  the 
door  behind  Mark  Willoughby,  she  said  with  annoyance 
clearly  shown  in  her  tones  :  "I  wish  that  you  had  kept  that 
package  to  take  it  yourself  to  Bertha  I  do  not  like  to  have 
Mr.  Willoughby  visiting  her,  now  that  she  is  away  from 
me." 


THE   ARRIVAL   OF    MR.  AND    MRS.   BRANT         9 1 

"  He  is  not  going  to  take  her  the  music  He  couldn't, 
for  he  has  to  be  at  Harvey  &  Blake's  office  by  half-past 
eight  in  the  morning,  and  that  is  beyond  our  office,  quite  in 
the  opposite  direction  from  Miss  Halsey's.  I  thought  that 
it  was  a  good  thing  that  Miss  Willoughby  would  take  the 
roll,  for  it  would  make  me  late  to  have  to  go  around  that 
way. ' ' 

Mortimer  spoke  lightly  and  cheerfully  as  he  looked  after 
shutter  bolts  and  got  ready  to  say  good-night,  and  he  added, 
"Willoughby  seems  to  be  a  pleasant,  good-tempered  sort  of 
fellow. ' ' 

' '  Pleasant  and  good-tempered, ' '  murmured  Mrs.  Win- 
stead.  ' '  Oh,  if  that  was  all  that  was  needed ' ' 

But  Mortimer  interrupted  her,  saying  : 

"Well,  mother,  it  goes  a  good  way,  and  further  than 
some  good  people  think.  Why  I  know  fellows  who  are 
really  good,  square,  honest  men,  but  they  are  so  wretchedly 
disagreeable  to  talk  to  that  nobody  wants  them  around. 
They  don' t  seem  to  have  a  particle  of  cheerfulness  or  tact" 

"My  boy,"  said  his  mother  earnestly,  laying  her  hand 
on  his  arm,  "stick  to  the  good,  square,  honest  man  every 
time.  A  rogue  will  lose  all  his  pleasantness  and  his  tact  as 
soon  as  he  gets  into  serious  difficulties,  and  he  will  leave  the 
stain  of  his  own  roguery  on  his  friends  as  well." 

"  Upon  my  word,  mother,  you  are  not  very  compliment- 
ary to  Mark  Willoughby, "  exclaimed  Mortimer,  looking  at 
her  in  surprise.  "  What  do  you  know  against  him  ?" 

"  Nothing  that  would  be  against  him  as  you  mean,"  said 
his  mother,  flushing  nervously.  "  But,  Mortimer,  he  is  not 
walking  in  the  path  you  are  treading,  he  does  not  serve  the 
Master  whom  you  serve  ;  don't  you  think  that  is  against 
him  as  a  really  reliable  friend  ? ' ' 

"I  suppose  that  I  ought  to  say  yes,"  replied  Mortimer  ; 


92  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"but  I  know  people  who  are  not  Christians  who  are  very 
trusty  friends.  There  is  Mr.  Palmer  ;  he  has  been  a  good 
friend  to  me." 

"Yes,  but  a  good  Christian  character  can  take  on  all  the 
outward  polish  in  time  ;  and  where  there  is  not  that  basis 
one  cannot  be  sure  that  worldly  motives  will  not  eat  holes  in 
the  outward  charm,"  said  his  mother. 

"Perhaps  that  is  true,"  said  Mortimer  thoughtfully; 
"but  all  the  same,  people  get  awfully  taken  in  about  Chris- 
tian character.  I  have  heard  Mr.  Palmer  say  that  some  of 
the  biggest  cheats  that  he  ever  had  to  deal  with,  carried  on 
operations  under  the  reputation  of  being  good  Christians. 
There  is  Mr.  Higginbotham,  who  is  always  giving  by  the 
thousands  to  good  objects  where  much  better  people  have  to 
be  content  to  slip  in  a  little  mite  that  nobody  notices  and 
that  does  no  great  good. ' ' 

"Nobody  notices  !"  repeated  Mrs.  Winstead.  "Whose 
notice  do  we  seek  to  gain  ?  If  our  little  deed  is  done 
in  the  right  spirit,  do  you  imagine  that  our  Lord  fails  to 
notice  it  ?  His  approval  is  our  highest  aim,  and  he  can 
never  be  taken  in  by  any  false  show  of  service  ;  and  the 
man  who  lives  in  close  communion  with  the  Divine  Master 
possesses  the  Ithuriel  spear  that  detects  falsehood  with  a 
touch." 

"  I  wish  that  one  could  possess  that  spear  literally,"  said 
Mortimer  with  a  rueful  smile.  "It  is  a  wretched  feeling 
that  one  may  be  taken  in  through  one's  kindest  and  best 
inclinations." 

"That  I  do  not  believe,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  with  un- 
usual energy.  "If  we  are  giving  close  heed  that  our 
motives  and  our  aims  are  pure,  and  that  our  own  character 
is  kept  white,  as  only  the  closest  contact  with  our  Lord  can 
keep  it,  we  shall  detect  falseness  in  the  character  of  others 


THE  ARRIVAL  OF  MR.  AND  MRS.  BRANT    93 

as  surely  as  you  would  see  a  yellow  cast  in  my  clean  hand- 
kerchief if  you  compared  it  with  that  new-fallen  snow. 

"That  is  a  good  simile,"  replied  Mortimer  with  a  little 
laugh.  "Mr.  Marshall  ought  to  get  you  to  help  him  with 
his  sermons.  Honestly,  little  mother,  I  do  believe  that  you 
can  make  good  work  of  anything  that  you  choose  to  turn 
your  hand  to,  whether  it  is  housekeeping  or  teaching  or 
preaching  sermons. ' ' 

"The  measure  of  my  success  rests  in  your  hand,"  said 
his  mother  with  a  simple  earnestness  which  startled  Mor- 
timer. "If  my  children  start  right  and  hold  to  the  right, 
serving  the  Lord  as  they  have  now  in  their  youth  the  chance 
to  do,  with  none  of  the  miserable  hampering  that  comes 
from  an  evil  past  record  that  must  be  lived  down  and  coun- 
teracted— then  I  may  feel  that  I  have  been  successful." 

Mortimer  did  not  reply,  but  every  trace  of  playful  banter 
was  gone  from  his  face  as  he  bent  his  tall  figure  to  kiss  her 
good-night,  and  the  clear  light  in  his  eyes  and  the  purpose- 
ful set  of  his  mouth,  filled  his  mother's  heart  with  gladness. 

It  was  her  great  desire  that  these  children  entrusted  to 
her  by  the  Lord  should  be  brought  as  an  offering  meet  for 
his  acceptance  ;  and  when  she  found  that  she  relied  more 
on  her  eldest  son  and  felt  most  anxiety  for  her  eldest 
daughter,  it  only  made  her  the  more  eager  in  prayer. 

When  she  reached  her  room  the  feeling  of  joy  and  thank- 
fulness that  had  filled  her  heart  as  she  bade  Mortimer  good- 
night was  disturbed  by  the  remembrance  of  her  last  admo- 
nition to  Bertha  She  had  spoken  to  her  very  frankly  about 
the  choice  of  companions,  and  had  expressed  her  opinion  of 
Kate  Willoughby  and  her  brother  more  freely  than  at  any 
time  before,  when  Bertha  was  constantly  under  her  own  eye. 

"  But  she  is  such  a  nice,  bright  girl,  with  just  my  tastes," 
Bertha  had  urged. 


94  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"That  may  be  in  some  respects,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead. 
1 '  But  do  you  think  that  she  cares  at  all  for  what  you  hold 
to  be  the  highest  and  holiest?" 

' '  She  is  not  a  church-member,  and  I  do  not  think  that 
she  cares  much  about  religion,"  admitted  Bertha.  "But 
she  goes  to  church  regularly,  and  she  is  never  in  the  least 
inclined  to  make  light  of  such  matters  ;  only  they  do  not 
interest  her." 

' '  Then  she  cannot  be  the  one  who  will  help  you  to  take 
a  constantly  increasing  and  more  effectual  interest, ' '  replied 
her  mother;  "and  if  your  Christian  life  is  to  reach  its 
highest  usefulness  you  need  those  who  will  help  you  and 
sympathize  with  you.  You  feel  the  need  of  sympathy  in 
your  love  of  music  ;  why  should  you  not  feel  it  in  this  far 
higher  love  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  do  not  be  afraid  ;  Kate  could  not  injure  me  in  that 
way,"  said  Bertha  confidently.  "In  fact,  I  find  that  my 
friends  are  more  likely  to  be  led  by  me  than  to  lead  me. ' ' 

"In  that  case  you  have  all  the  more  need  to  follow 
closely  in  the  footsteps  of  the  only  true  Leader,"  her  mother 
had  replied.  She  had  no  desire  to  engage  in  any  fruitless 
discussion  on  the  girl's  last  evening  at  home;  but  in  her 
heart  she  wondered  a  little  at  Bertha' s  blindness,  for  she 
knew  that  her  daughter  was  very  susceptible  to  the  influence 
of  her  companions. 

All  this  rushed  into  her  mind  as  she  thought  over  the  in- 
dications that  she  had  received  that  evening,  of  Bertha's 
intimacy  with  the  Willoughbys  ;  and  she  laid  her  head  on 
the  pillow  with  a  weary  presentiment  of  coming  evil. 


.  CHAPTER  IX 

HAMILTON,    MINING   AGENT 

MRS.  Winstead  was  so  much  occupied  with  thoughts 
of  her  daughter,  that  the  question  raised  by  Mor- 
timer on  the  evening  the  Brants  arrived  slipped  out  of  her 
mind,  and  although  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marshall  called,  and 
other  friends  came  to  see  her  guests,  it  did  not  once  occur 
to  her  to  wonder  whether  the  name  of  Merrivale  had  been 
used  in  their  hearing. 

She  was  slowly  and  very  unwillingly  but  none  the  less 
surely,  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  Mortimer  ought  to  be 
in  town  with  his  sister.  Bertha  wrote  very  cheerfully  and 
was  evidently  delighted  with  her  success.  Myrtle  Davenant 
was  her  pet  pupil  and  Mrs.  Davenant  fascinated  her. 

This  was  not  surprising,  as  Mrs.  Davenant  was  a  very 
beautiful  and  charming  woman.  She  had  the  talent  of  not 
forgetting  people  whom  she  met,  and  to  this  she  added  the 
grace  that  she  never  willingly  spoke  ill  of  any  one.  Her 
other  children  had  died  in  infancy,  and  she  was  painfully 
anxious  about  Myrtle.  Bertha's  ladylike  manners  and 
gentle  but  decided  way  of  teaching  pleased  her  from  the 
first,  and  she  gladly  made  the  arrangement  that  Myrtle 
should  take  daily  short  lessons  instead  of  longer  semi- 
weekly  ones,  as  was  the  case  with  more  advanced  pupils. 
At  the  end  of  each  lesson  Myrtle  always  begged  for  "a  little 
real  music  now,"  and  Mrs.  Davenant  frequently  came  in  to 
listen  while  Bertha  played.  The  lessons  were  liberally  paid 
for,  and,  apart  from  this  satisfaction,  the  hours  spent  in  this 

95 


96  THE   MERRIVALE   WILL 

luxurious  drawing  room  with  treasures  of  art  on  every  side 
and  the  magnificent  grand  piano,  were  sheer  delight  to 
Bertha. 

Besides  all  this  her  other  pupils  were  not  uninteresting  ; 
she  was  asked  to  various  little  musical  gatherings  ;  and  she 
was  able  to  keep  track  of  all  the  concerts,  private  or  public. 
Naturally  she  wished  to  attend  them,  and  here  came  Miss 
Clive'  s  serious  trouble,  for  it  was  not  possible  always  to  se- 
cure a  suitable  escort  for  the  young  girl.  Miss  Ann  and 
Miss  Rebecca  Halsey  petted  her,  and  she  in  her  turn  did 
her  best  to  make  her  presence  in  the  house  a  pleasure  to 
them  by  her  brightness  and  thoughtfulness,  so  that  they 
were  not  only  willing  but  eager  that  she  should  have  all  the 
amusement  possible. 

"  It  is  too  bad  to  keep  a  young  girl  cooped  up,  Rachel," 
expostulated  Miss  Ann  one  evening  when  Miss  Clive  had 
objected  to  Bertha's  going  out  with  Mark  and  Kate  Wil- 
loughby.  ' '  Why  doesn'  t  her  brother  come  in  and  take 
her?" 

When  the  next  morning  a  letter  came  from  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  suggesting  that  Mortimer  should  stay  in  town  if  Miss 
Halsey  was  able  and  willing  to  give  him  a  room  in  their 
house,  Miss  Clive  looked  upon  it  as  providential  and  at  once 
consulted  with  Miss  Ann  as  to  necessary  arrangements. 

Bertha  welcomed  the  plan  with  delight  when  it  was  men- 
tioned to  her  on  her  return  from  her  morning  lessons  ;  but 
she  did  not  agree  to  her  aunt' s  suggestion  that  she  should  go 
out  to  Briarley  to  tell  her  mother  what  arrangements  could  be 
made. 

All  her  excuses  were  very  trivial,  but  they  prevailed,  as 
Miss  Clive  felt  that  it  was  useless  to  urge  her  when  she  did 
not  herself  desire  to  go. 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  don't  know  or  care  anything  about 


HAMILTON,  MINING    AGENT  97 

me,  and  mamma  promised  to  come  in  to  see  me  this 
week,"  said  Bertha,  as  a  final  settlement  of  the  matter,  and 
Miss  Clive  quietly  sat  down  to  write  Miss  Halsey's  willing 
agreement  to  the  plan  that  Mortimer  should  take  up  his 
abode  with  them. 

No  one  could  be  long  in  Jessica' s  company  without  hear- 
ing of  her  beautiful  sister,  for  whom  she  had  such  deeply 
rooted  affection  and  admiration,  and  as  Mrs.  Brant  took  a 
great  liking  to  careless,  good-tempered,  self-forgetful  Jessica, 
and  the  liking  was  strongly  reciprocated  by  the  girl  herself, 
it  was  only  natural  that  she  should  soon  feel  pretty  well  ac- 
quainted with  Bertha  as  seen  through  Jessica's  eyes.  Jes- 
sica also  had  an  equally  good  opportunity  to  become  thor- 
oughly informed  of  the  good  qualities  of  Mrs.  Brant's  son 
Felix,  for  Mrs.  Brant  was  as  pleased  to  find  an  interested 
listener  for  her  talk  about  him  as  Jessica  was  for  her  de- 
scriptions of  Bertha' s  merits. 

The  mention  of  the  Merrivale  name  came  at  a  time  when 
Mrs.  Winstead  had  temporarily  forgotten  the  subject  It 
was  just  after  the  arrangement  had  been  made  that  Morti- 
mer should  go  to  Miss  Halsey's,  and  he  was  to  leave  home 
so  soon  that  his  mother's  thoughts  were  entirely  occupied 
with  him.  One  clear,  bright,  cold  morning  after  he  had 
left  for  the  train,  the  two  ladies  were  still  at  the  breakfast 
table  looking  over  their  letters,  and  Jessica,  who  had  over- 
slept herself,  came  in  just  as  her  brothers  and  Helen  left  the 
room.  One  of  Mrs.  Winstead' s  letters  bore  the  postmark 
Colorado  Springs,  and  on  opening  it  she  found  to  her  sur- 
prise that  it  was  from  Felix  Brant 

He  wrote  in  very  manly,  straightforward  style,  thanking 
her  for  her  kindness  to  his  parents,  and  the  whole  tone  was 
so  pleasant  and  frank  and  showed  such  strong  affection  for 
his  parents,  that  the  unpleasant  impression  left  upon  Mrs. 

G 


98  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

Winstead  by  the  only  other  letter  she  had  seen  in  his  hand- 
writing rapidly  faded.  It  was  not  till  she  came  to  the  last 
page  that  her  cheeks  flushed  and  she  winced  a  little. 

"You  must  not  think,"  he  wrote,  "that  because  my 
parents  are  far  away  from  me,  and  have  found  a  kind  friend 
in  you,  that  I  have  forgotten  to  work  and  plan  for  their 
comfort.  If  relations  were  as  kind  to  us  as  those  who  are 
no  kin  have  shown  themselves,  my  mother  might  be  com- 
fortably provided  for  ;  but  at  least  she  shall  have  every  cent 
that  her  son  can  earn  for  her. ' ' 

Then  came  the  signature  in  full,  "Felix  Merrivale 
Brant." 

Mrs.  Winstead  had  felt  so  kindly  toward  this  unknown 
lad  that  it  hurt  her  to  find  that  he  was  still  thinking  ill  of 
the  Merrivale  family.  At  the  same  time  she  noticed  that 
Mrs.  Brant  held  in  her  hand  a  letter  in  the  same  hand- 
writing and  Jessica  who  was  talking  to  her  about  her  son, 
said  : 

• '  Isn'  t  it  funny,  mamma,  Mrs.  Brant' s  son  has  the  same 
name  as  our  aunt  ?  He  is  Merrivale  Brant  and  she  was 
Miss  Merrivale." 

Here  was  the  very  question  that  Mrs.  Winstead  had  an- 
ticipated, and  it  gave  her  the  opening  that  she  thought  she 
wanted  ;  but  as  she  had  not  meant  to  talk  to  Mrs.  Brant  on 
that  subject  before  the  children,  she  only  said  quietly  as  she 
rose  from  the  table  : 

' '  Yes,  Mrs.  Brant  and  I  must  compare  notes  on  our 
family  histories  and  find  out  how  that  happens." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  it  just  chanced  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant, 
with  the  indifference  of  one  who  had  lived  in  a  Western 
town  where  people's  grandfathers  were  little  known  and  less 
inquired  about  "It  struck  me  a  little  queerly  at  first, 
that  your  daughter  has  the  same  name  as  an  aunt  of  my 


HAMILTON,  MINING   AGENT  99 

father  ;  but,  dear  me,  lots  of  people  drifted  out  to  Kansas 
from  all  parts,  and  they  might  live  next  door  and  have  the 
same  name  without  being  any  kin — that  is  to  say,  short  of 
Adam.  There  was  a  man  at  Muddy  Gulch  beyond  Silver- 
bush  who  had  the  name  of  Brant  ;  but  I'  m  glad  to  say  he 
was  no  kin  to  my  husband.  We  don't  fuss  over  those 
things  the  way  I've  been  told  that  Eastern  people  do,"  she 
added  with  a  little  laugh. 

She  got  up  as  she  spoke  and  went  to  the  door  and  Jessica 
followed  her.  Mrs.  Brant  always  made  her  own  bed  and 
dusted  her  room  in  the  morning,  as  she  had  been  used  to 
do  ever  since  she  was  married.  She  would  not  allow  Jane 
to  touch  it,  but  she  did  not  always  decline  Jessica's  help  if 
she  thought  that  the  girl  was  not  needed  elsewhere,  and 
Jessica  was  eager  to  be  with  her  on  any  pretext 

Mrs.  Winstead  was  half  vexed  as  she  watched  them  go 
off  together,  and  realized  that  the  explanation  which  she 
considered  had  now  been  forced  upon  her  was  coolly  set 
aside.  She  inwardly  determined  to  bring  it  up  again  at  the 
first  opportunity  when  she  could  speak  with  Mrs.  Brant 
alone.  But  the  opportunity  did  not  come  throughout  the 
day,  and  after  tea  Mr.  Brant,  who  had  taken  a  little  cold, 
went  to  his  room  early,  and  his  wife  going  upstairs  with  him 
did  not  reappear. 

Mrs.  Winstead  was  obliged  to  fall  back  upon  her  usual 
resource  of  talking  matters  over  with  Mortimer  after  Helen 
and  Jessica  had  gone  to  bed. 

Mortimer  read  the  letter  that  she  handed  him  and  then 
she  told  him  of  Jessica's  remark  and  of  her  own  desire  to 
have  done  with  anything  that  looked  like  concealment 

"Yes,  I  think  it  would  be  much  better  to  explain  about 
our  relationship  to  the  Merrivales,"  said  Mortimer  thought- 
fully. "Then  they  can  tell  us  just  as  much  or  as  little  as 


IOO  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

they  please  about  themselves.  The  fact  is  that  a  man  who 
came  to  see  me  at  the  office  to-day  just  as  I  was  leaving, 
told  me  something  about  a  young  fellow  he  knows  of  out 
West  who  wants  to  push  a  claim  to  our  property.  He  said 
that  the  young  man  might  give  us  a  lot  of  trouble  but  that 
he  could  fix  it  all  up  if  I  liked." 

"Who  was  he,  and  what  did  you  say?"  asked  Mrs. 
Winstead  anxiously. 

"His  name  is  Hamilton,  and  I  have  seen  him  in  there 
once  or  twice  before,  talking  to  Mr.  Palmer.  He  is  agent 
to  sell  some  mining  stock,"  replied  Mortimer.  "I  didn't 
say  anything  to  him,  but  just  let  him  talk.  I  was  in  a 
hurry  to  catch  my  train,  so  he  had  not  time  to  say  much. ' ' 

"Surely  I  remember  that  name,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead. 
"I  think  that  it  was  when  your  father  began  to  go  into 
those  .speculations  that  turned  out  so  badly.  Yes,  now  I 
have  it.  Robert  Hamilton  was  the  name  of  the  man  who 
led  him  into  the  affair  ;  but  it  may  not  be  the  same  man. 
He  must  have  been  well  over  thirty  then,  and  I  should 
think  that  he  would  be  nearly  fifty  now." 

' '  This  fellow  is,  I  should  say,  somewhere  between  forty- 
five  and  fifty,  small  and  jaunty,  with  reddish  hair  and 
moustache,"  said  Mortimer. 

Mrs.  Winstead  looked  alarmed  and  exclaimed  :  ' '  My  dear 
boy,  I  really  think  that  it  must  be  the  same  man  !  Promise 
me  that  you  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  He  is  very 
deceitful  and  dishonest.  I  do  hope  that  he  has  not  been 
trying  to  poison  the  mind  of  that  nice,  frank  boy,  Felix,  or 
to  get  him  in  his  power.  He  would  probably  try  to  fill  his 
mind  with  all  sorts  of  false  stories  about  us." 

"  I  don't  think  that,"  said  Mortimer.  "I  have  met  him 
before  and  he  was  quite  friendly.  In  fact  he  wanted  me  to 
invest  in  the  mining  stock." 


HAMILTON,   MINING    AGENT  IOI 

"Oh,  I  hope  that  you  have  not  been  so  imprudent ! "  ex- 
claimed his  mother. 

"  No,"  replied  Mortimer.  "I  did  think  of  it  a  little,  as 
it  seemed  to  be  pretty  good  ;  but  when  this  about  the 
Brants  came  up  I  thought  that  you  would  need  ready  cash 
more  than  any  investments  for  future  fortunes,  so  I  told 
him  that  I  did  not  care  to  take  any  shares." 

"I  am  most  thankful,"  said  his  mother.  "Certainly  the 
Brants  have  unconsciously  done  you  a  good  turn  in  that. 
But  I  am  so  afraid  that  the  man  will  try  to  make  us  trouble." 

"  Don't  worry  about  that,"  said  Mortimer  ;  "I  don't  be- 
lieve that  he  was  working  any  regularly  planned  scheme. 
It  probably  just  struck  him  when  he  saw  me,  that  he  might 
squeeze  some  money  out  of  us  with  this  tale,  and  by  the  way, 
I  think  that  he  had  just  been  unsuccessful  in  getting  Mr. 
Palmer  to  listen  to  him.  Anyway,  I  shall  have  nothing  to 
do  with  him  ;  so  you  can  set  your  mind  at  rest" 

"Well,  I  shall  take  the  first  opportunity  to  recall  the 
subject  to  Mrs.  Brant,  and  I  shall  tell  all  about  our  Aunt 
Jessica,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  resolutely.  "Then  she  can 
tell  me  just  what  she  pleases  ;  but  we  shall  be  practising  no 
concealment  I  am  very  glad  that  we  have  talked  this  all 
over  to-night,  for  this  will  be  the  last  evening  for  some  time 
that  I  can  talk  things  over  with  you." 

"Don"  t  be  downhearted  about  that,"  said  Mortimer  cheer- 
ily, as  he  noticed  the  quiver  that  passed  over  his  mother's 
face.  "I  shall  take  up  my  position  as  guardian  brother 
to  Bertha  to-morrow,  but  I  shall  not  forget  to  keep  an  eye 
on  the  house  out  here,  and  I  shall  be  to  and  fro." 

• '  Keep  yourself  always  close  to  the  true  Guardian  and 
all  will  go  well  with  you,  my  son,"  replied  his  mother,  and 
with  a  good-night  kiss  she  went  slowly  upstairs,  watching 
until  his  lamp  had  vanished  in  the  room  he  shared  with  Jack. 


CHAPTER  X 

MORTIMER   MAKES  A   LOAN 

BERTHA  was  very  much  pleased  when  she  found  that 
Mortimer  was  really  coming  to  stay  in  town.  She 
cared  nothing  especial  for  Mark  Willoughby  or  any  other 
young  man,  but  she  did  care  very  much  if  she  was 
obliged  to  miss  any  musical  treat.  Prof.  Lubeck  had  not 
only  procured  her  some  pupils,  but  he  had  also  made  her 
acquainted  with  musical  people,  some  of  whom  were  pro- 
fessionals and  some  amateurs.  Miss  Rachel  was  decidedly 
out  of  her  element  among  the  people  who  came  to  see  Ber- 
tha, but  she  had  the  instinct  of  a  lady  and  the  training  of  a 
Christian  to  assist  her  in  forming  opinions  of  them,  and  to 
some  of  them  she  objected  in  her  quiet  but  decided  way. 
It  pleased  her  to  see  that  Bertha  took  any  advice  that  she 
gave  very  sweetly,  and  any  person  whom  she  distinctly 
disapproved  came  more  rarely  to  the  house. 

For  Mortimer  an  entirely  new  life  seemed  to  begin  from 
the  first  evening  that  he  passed  the  Harriton  station  and 
went  to  Miss  Halsey'  s,  instead  of  taking  the  usual  train  to 
Briarley.  Bertha  had  complimentary  tickets  for  a  concert 
that  night,  and  was  watching  eagerly  for  his  arrival,  to  claim 
his  escort  She  had  also  an  invitation  to  a  private  re- 
hearsal of  a  singing  society,  and  the  organist  of  the  church 
where  her  father  had  formerly  played  wanted  her  to  come 
some  evening  to  hear  an  Easter  anthem  that  his  choir  was 
practising. 

Mortimer  had  inherited  enough  of  his  father's  love  of 


MORTIMER    MAKES    A    LOAN  1 03 

music  to  enjoy  all  this,  and  there  was  a  fascination  in  the  life 
and  stir  of  the  city  that  his  quiet,  self-controlled  nature  had 
hardly  foreseen.  He  had  intended  to  place  himself  at  Ber- 
tha' s  disposal,  but  otherwise  he  had  meant  to  be  very  much 
the  same  as  he  had  been  at  Briarley.  He  began  by  telling 
Bertha  home  news  and  home  plans,  but  she  was  easily 
satisfied  as  long  as  she  knew  that  all  were  well  at  home  ; 
and  at  any  mention  of  the  Brants  she  changed  the  subject 
so  persistently  and  adroitly  that  Mortimer  did  not  get  a 
chance  to  tell  her  that  the  question  of  relationship  was  to  be 
fully  explained.  At  first  he  felt  repelled  and  was  rather 
silent,  but  soon  the  companionship  of  young  people  about 
his  own  age  drew  him  out,  and  he  found  that  he  and  Bertha 
had  more  things  in  common  to  talk  about 

Mark  Willoughby  was  particularly  friendly  and  pleasant, 
and  it  was  flattering  as  well  as  agreeable  to  so  young  a  man 
as  Mortimer  to  find  that  one  several  years  his  senior,  and 
well  used  to  city  life,  had  taken  a  decided  liking  for  his  so- 
ciety. Mortimer  had  not  in  the  least  forgotten  his  mother's 
warning  and  he  did  not  mean  to  make  an  intimate  friend 
of  Mark,  but  he  was  not  displeased  to  find  that  Mark  was 
apparently  inclined  to  make  an  intimate  friend  of  him. 

One  day  toward  the  latter  part  of  February  Mrs.  Winstead 
came  to  town  and  stopped  at  the  office  at  the  hour  when 
Mortimer  w-as  ready  to  leave. 

Mortimer  hurried  on  his  overcoat  and  hat,  and  they 
walked  slowly  along  the  lighted  streets  in  the  direction  of 
the  station. 

"Have  you  had  your  talk  with  Mrs.  Brant?"  asked 
Mortimer  ;  "and  how  did  it  turn  out?" 

"No,  I  have  not  mentioned  the  Merrivales,"  replied  his 
mother  ;  "and  the  truth  is,  Mortimer,  I  have  been  thinking 
more  about  other  matters.  You  know  Mr.  Brant  had  taken 


IO4  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

cold  when  you  left,  and  he  seemed  quite  pulled  down  for  a 
time  ;  but  I  was  shocked  to  discover  that  the  real  reason  of 
his  cold  was  that  he  had  gone  outdoors  with  positively  in- 
sufficient clothing.  Jane  told  me  that  his  underclothing 
was  not  fit  to  keep  any  one  warm  in  the  depth  of  winter; 
and  his  overcoat,  although  it  looked  very  respectable,  was 
really  a  light  overcoat  only  fit  for  spring  wear  or  fall.  I  felt 
dreadfully,  and  I  spoke  to  Mrs.  Brant  and  insisted  that  she 
must  let  me  furnish  her  with  what  was  needed  to  get  good 
warm  clothing." 

'  •  Could  you  manage  it,  mother  ? ' '  asked  Mortimer. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  persuaded  her,  and  she  told  me  that  he  had 
had  rough  heavy  clothes  that  he  used  to  wear  at  Silverbush, 
but  they  were  hardly  fit  for  him  to  wear  here,  and  they 
seemed  to  have  thought  that  it  would  be  very  much  milder 
here  in  the  winter.  At  all  events,  they  left  the  heavy  clothes 
for  Felix,  who  would  find  them  very  useful  and  necessary 
in  ranch  life;  and  when  they  came  here  Mr.  Brant  dis- 
covered that  he  felt  colder  with  the  thermometer  at  twenty- 
five  than  he  had  felt  out  in  the  dry  atmosphere  and  clear 
sunlight  of  the  Western  mountains  when  the  thermometer 
was  twenty  or  thirty  degrees  lower." 

"  I  have  heard  Mr.  Atherton  say  that,"  said  Mortimer 
thoughtfully.  ' '  But  how  did  you  manage  about  the 
money  ? ' ' 

"  It  used  about  all  I  had  to  spare,"  replied  his  mother; 
' '  but  I  made  Mrs.  Brant  accept  the  money  by  telling  her 
that  I  had  meant  to  send  Jack  to  the  Harriton  Academy; 
but  since  her  husband  had  been  drilling  him  in  his  Latin 
and  mathematics  it  really  was  an  unnecessary  expense. 
That  made  her  feel  better,  and  Mr.  Brant  has  now  respect- 
able clothing  to  keep  him  warm.  I  think  too  that  her  son 
has  begun  to  earn  a  little  and  to  send  to  her,  for  she  said 


MORTIMER    MAKES    A    LOAN  IO5 

that  after  a  while  they  would  have  enough  to  be  able  to 
spend  on  clothes ;  but  it  would  never  have  done  to  wait  for 
that  Mr.  Brant  was  positively  staying  indoors  to  keep 
warm,  and  Doctor  Scott  told  me  when  he  first  came  that 
plenty  of  fresh  air  and  exercise  were  the  things  that  he 
needed  to  set  him  all  right  again." 

"  I' 11  give  you  all  that  I  have,"  said  Mortimer,  looking 
at  her  with  a  glow  in  his  face  and  a  steady  light  in  his  eyes 
that  made  him  look  handsome  to  his  mother' s  gaze.  We 
have  no  sacrifices  to  make  like  that,  for  we  always  have 
home  and  clothes  and  all  that ' ' 

"No,  no,  dear;  I  did  not  mean  to  take  your  earnings," 
said  his  mother.  ' '  I  can  manage  ;  and  now  that  you  have 
to  pay  your  board,  you  need  all  that  you  can  earn. ' ' 

' '  I  ought  to  have  a  rise  in  salary  soon, ' '  said  Mortimer 
thoughtfully.  "Mr.  Palmer  as  good  as  promised  it  to  me 
last  December,  and  Mr.  Davenant  spoke  very  approvingly 
of  me  last  week  ;  at  least  so  Johnson,  our  bookkeeper,  told 
me." 

"  You  and  Bertha  are  doing  very  well,  as  you  are  practi- 
cally supporting  yourselves  now  ;  so  do  not  worry  about  the 
expenses,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  falling  into  the  mistake  so 
natural  to  a  mother,  of  thinking  that  her  children  are  to  be 
looked  upon  as  creatures  who  are  dependent  upon  her  and 
who  are  doing  really  a  little  more  than  their  share  if  they 
support  themselves. 

Love  and  pride  are  apt  to  get  confused  ;  and  as  Mrs. 
Winstead  looked  at  her  son  with  a  glow  of  love  and  pride 
that  he  should  so  quickly  make  this  offer,  she  also  felt  a 
sensitive  pride  on  her  own  account  that  would  have  made  it 
very  repugnant  to  her  to  take  his  earnings  for  the  family  ex- 
penses. She  forgot  that  a  good  impulse  that  leads  to  no 
good  action  is  waste  of  energy  and  also  loss  of  energy  in 


IO6  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

that  direction.  Mortimer  was  not  yet  the  sort  of  lad  who 
could  be  quite  content  to  wish  to  be  kindly  and  unselfish 
without  really  accomplishing  anything.  He  felt  a  super- 
abundance of  energy  and  physical  strength.  He  wanted 
to  work  hard  and  earn  more  ;  but  he  did  not  care  to  think 
only  of  his  own  needs,  and  as  he  was  not  yet  beginning  to 
think  of  matrimony,  to  work  for  his  mother  and  sisters  was 
the  most  natural  object  Failing  in  that,  his  kindly  feelings 
were  likely  to  take  different  and  perhaps  less  wise  direction. 

The  last  day  of  February  was  a  keen,  bright  day,  and  he 
walked  to  the  office  in  very  good  spirits.  Mr.  Palmer  was 
not  there  and  did  not  come  in  during  the  whole  day.  In 
answer  to  Mortimer' s  inquiry,  the  bookkeeper  told  him  that 
Mr.  Palmer  had  gone  with  Mr.  Willoughby  to  Chicago  on 
business.  He  then  paid  Mortimer  his  monthly  salary,  but 
there  was  no  word  about  any  increase.  The  lad  put  his 
money  in  his  pocket,  and  as  it  was  then  time  for  leaving  the 
office,  he  got  into  his  overcoat  and  was  just  putting  on  his 
hat  and  leaving  the  office  when  Mark  Willoughby  passed 
and  waited  for  Mortimer  to  join  him.  He  greeted  Mortimer 
with  his  usual  cordiality,  but  he  seemed  thoughtful  and  did 
not  have  his  usual  string  of  jokes  and  amusing  comments 
on  all  he  saw. 

"I  hear  that  your  father  has  gone  to  Chicago  with  Mr. 
Palmer, ' '  remarked  Mortimer  after  they  had  walked  a  short 
distance  in  very  unusual  silence. 

"Yes  ;  worse  luck  for  me,"  said  Mark,  giving  himself  a 
restless  shake. 

"Why  ?     What's  the  matter?"  asked  Mortimer. 

"Oh,  nothing  much,  only  I  wanted  some  money  ;  and 
here  at  four  o'  clock  I  found  out  that  the  old  gentleman  was 
gone  and  of  course  all  the  banks  were  closed  by  that  time, 
so  I  could  not  draw  a  cent" 


MORTIMER    MAKES    A    LOAN  IO/ 

"Didn't  you  get  paid  this  afternoon?"  asked  Mortimer. 
' '  Palmer  &  Davenant  always  pay  regularly  the  last  day  of 
the  month." 

"No,"  said  Mark  carelessly,  "I  don't  draw  regularly 
every  month.  Sometimes,  if  I  am  flush,  I  let  it  run,  and 
our  bookkeeper  didn'  t  happen  to  have  the  cash  handy  to- 
day. Of  course  he  could  have  given  me  a  check,  but  with 
the  banks  all  closed  that  was  no  good. ' ' 

' '  Don' t  you  know  anybody  who  would  cash  a  check  for 
you?"  asked  Mortimer. 

He  knew  very  well  that  Mark  Willoughby  was  not  de- 
pendent on  his  salary.  It  was  no  secret  that  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby made  his  son  a  handsome  allowance,  and  in  getting 
him  a  situation  the  question  had  been  more  to  get  him  in 
with  a  good  firm  and  a  chance  to  learn  the  business  than  to 
get  him  a  big  salary. 

"Yes,  of  course,"  replied  Mark,  "I  know  plenty  ;  but  a 
fellow  don' t  exactly  like  to  bother  people  or  to  go  running 
about  town  like  a  beggar.  If  I  happened  to  come  across 
Forbes  or  Eversley  or  Ames,  I  could  get  all  I  want  and  more 
too  ;  but  it  is  Saturday,  as  luck  will  have  it,  and  they  have 
either  gone  to  spend  Sunday  somewhere  or  gone  home 
early.  I  say  Mort,"  he  exclaimed  with  a  sudden  change  of 
tone,  ' '  I  suppose  it  would  inconvenience  you — well,  never 
mind,  I  must  try  to  get  along  till  Monday  morning." 

Mrs.  Winstead  had  been  so  often  in  trouble  because  of 
her  husband' s  good-natured  but  weak  tendency  to  lend  to 
his  friends  what  he  needed  himself,  that  she  had  most 
strenuously  urged  upon  her  children  neither  to  borrow  nor 
lend,  and  the  remembrance  of  this  caused  a  look  of  embar- 
rassment to  come  over  Mortimer' s  face  as  soon  as  he  per- 
ceived the  drift  of  Mark' swords. 

Mark  was  very  quick  to  see  it  and  to  check  himself ;  but 


IO8  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

there  was  a  subtle  ring  in  the  last  words  that  hurt  Mortimer. 
There  had  never  been  a  shadow  of  condescension  in  Mark' s 
manner  to  him  ;  it  had  been  as  frank  as  if  he  had  been  as 
rich  and  as  old  as  Mark  himself.  But  now  in  the  way  that 
Mark  checked  himself  there  was  a  subtle  remembrance  of 
the  difference  that  galled  Mortimer  all  the  more  because 
Mark  immediately  went  on  to  talk  in  a  perfectly  friendly 
manner  on  other  subjects.  Mortimer  remembered  that  he 
had  been  on  the  point  of  sending  the  money  to  his  mother, 
but  she  said  that  she  did  not  need  it  Then  suddenly  he 
exclaimed  while  fumbling  at  his  pocket  : 

' '  Look  here  ;  maybe  I  could  help  you  out  of  a  pinch.  I 
was  paid  to-day.  How  much  do  you  need  ?  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  it  is  only  that  I  promised  a  man  yes- 
terday, that  if  he  would  come  up  to  the  house  to-night  I 
would  pay  him  a  fifty  that  I  owed  him.  But  very  likely  you 
have  bills  of  your  own  coming  in,  and  I  would  not  incon- 
venience you  for  the  world,"  replied  Mark. 

"  Fifty  dollars  !  "  exclaimed  Mortimer.  He  had  not  ex- 
pected quite  as  large  a  sum. 

' '  Yes,  the  poor  fellow  said  he  was  hard  up,  rent  due  or 
something  ;  but  I'll  just  tell  him  to  wait  till  Monday,  though 
I  am  awfully  sorry  to  think  of  bringing  him  all  the  way  up 
to  our  house  for  nothing  ;  but  it  can't  be  helped,"  summed 
up  Mark 

"Yes,  it  can,"  replied  Mortimer.  "I  have  no  bills  to 
pay  to-night,  and  I  can  let  you  have  fifty  dollars ;  but, ' '  he 
added,  "I  shall  have  bills  to  pay  next  week,  and  I  shall 
need  it  then." 

"Oh,  of  course!"  said  Mark  cheerfully.  "But  I  will 
give  you  my  check  at  once  and  you  can  cash  it  Monday 
morning." 

He  turned  to  run  up  the  steps  of  one  of  the  best  hotels 


MORTIMER    MAKES    A    LOAN 

which  they  were  just  passing.  Mortimer  followed  him  into 
the  reading  room,  and  there  Mark  quickly  wrote  out  a 
check  and  the  fifty  dollars  were  transferred  to  Mark's 
pocket. 

"I'll  say  good-bye  here  and  take  this  short  cut  home," 
said  Mark,  as  they  came  out  of  the  hotel  again.  "That 
unlucky  man  may  be  waiting  for  me.  Just  call  on  me, 
Mort,  whenever  you  want  a  good  turn  done  you." 

He  waved  his  hand  and  went  off  in  another  direction 
while  Mortimer  walked  slowly  on  through  the  darkening 
streets.  He  was  pleased  with  himself  for  having  done  a 
good  turn  to  his  friend  and  saved  the  poor  man  a  dis- 
appointment; but  there  was  a  slight  undercurrent  of  doubt 
Mark's  way  of  talking  about  money  and  debt  sounded  care- 
less to  Mortimer,  and  he  did  feel  a  little  queer  to  come  home 
without  a  cent  in  his  pocket  on  the  last  day  of  the  month. 

His  board  was  due  at  Miss  Halsey's  and  he  needed  to 
buy  some  clothing  for  himself.  Life  in  town  was  more  ex- 
pensive in  that  way  than  life  in  the  country,  as  he  discov- 
ered very  quickly.  Besides,  he  wished  to  keep  always  a 
margin  above  his  expenses,  so  that  he  could  help  his  mother 
or  Bertha  if  they  needed  it.  If  it  had  not  been  for  these 
considerations  Mortimer  would  not  have  given  any  more 
thought  to  this  loan.  Mrs.  Winstead  had  not  aimed  to 
make  her  children  ungenerous  and  no  one  more  enjoyed 
giving  than  she  did  ;  but  she  wanted  them  to  bear  in  mind 
that  the  best  and  most  useful  helper  is  the  man  who  can 
stand  firmly  on  his  own  feet.  The  kind-hearted  spendthrift 
who  slides  recklessly  into  the  bog  of  debt  himself  in  his 
efforts  to  haul  out  his  friend,  is  only  adding  to  the  army  of 
foolish  people.  Although  folly  is  not  as  injurious  as  vice  to 
the  man' s  own  character,  it  is  in  many  cases  quite  as  de- 
structive to  his  friends'  welfare. 


CHAPTER   XI 

AN   ACCIDENT   AT  BRIARLEY 

THE  next  morning  as  Bertha  and  her  aunt  were  dress- 
ing to  go  to  church,  the  door-bell  rang  and  Miss  Ann 
Halsey  came  upstairs  to  say  that  Mr.  and  Miss  Willoughby 
were  in  the  parlor. 

Bertha  was  already  dressed  and  she  ran  down  at  once  to  see 
them,  but  Miss  Rachel's  face  clouded. 

' '  I  wish  I  had  been  ready  ten  minutes  earlier, ' '  she  said 
regretfully ;  "  I  did  want  to  get  Bertha  to  go  to  our  own 
church  this  morning." 

"Go  down  and  tell  her,"  suggested  Miss  Ann.  "She  is 
the  sweetest-tempered  girl  to  give  advice  to  that  ever  I  saw. 
She  always  seems  to  value  advice  from  her  elders,  and  that 
is  more  than  most  young  people  of  the  present  day  do. ' ' 

"Oh,  yes;  but  I  am  afraid  she  values  it  too  highly  to  use 
it  often,"  said  Miss  Rachel  with  a  sigh,  and  even  as  they 
spoke  Miss  Rebecca  came  into  the  room  to  say  that  their 
friends  wanted  Bertha  and  Mortimer  to  go  to  church  with 
them,  and  Bertha  had  asked  her  to  tell  Aunt  Rachel. 

Kate  and  Mark  had  asked  Bertha  and  Mortimer  to  go 
with  them  to  hear  a  particularly  fine  anthem  that  was  to 
be  sung  at  one  of  the  finest  churches  in  the  city,  but  Mark 
had  another  object  in  view,  and  as  they  were  all  leaving 
the  house  he  loitered  a  moment  in  getting  his  hat  and 
managed  to  slip  an  envelope  into  Mortimer's  hand,  saying 
in  a  low  tone: 

"I'm  awfully  obliged  to  you  old  fellow;  but  I  found  that 
no 


AN  ACCIDENT  AT  BRIARLEY         III 

the  old  gentleman  had  left  what  I  needed  with  Kate,  so  I 
thought  that  I  would  return  you  the  cash  and  save  you  the 
trouble  of  cashing  that  check." 

Mortimer  took  the  envelope  and  felt  that  it  contained  a 
roll  of  bills. 

"  I'  11  get  you  the  check, ' '  he  said. 

"Oh,  no.  Nevermind  till  we  come  back,"  said  Mark 
hastily.  "Don't  keep  them  waiting  now." 

The  young  ladies  were  already  on  the  sidewalk  and  both 
of  the  young  men  ran  down  the  steps  and  joined  them. 

The  music  was  very  fine,  but  the  service  was  a  long  one, 
and  when  they  came  out  Kate  said  that  she  must  take  a 
shorter  way  home.  Mortimer  in  a  whisper  reminded  Mark 
of  the  check. 

"Oh,  tear  it  up,"  replied  Mark  carelessly  as  he  turned 
to  follow  his  sister.  Mortimer,  who  was  extremely  method- 
ical in  all  business  matters,  could  not  understand  Mark's 
carelessness  and  would  rather  have  returned  the  check  at 
once.  However  he  was  careful  to  take  it  with  him  the  next 
morning  and,  meeting  Mark  on  his  way  to  the  office,  he 
handed  it  back  to  him  with  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  his 
first  venture  in  lending  had  certainly  not  lost  him  his 
money  and  had  apparently  strengthened  a  friendship. 

But  lending  is  very  like  gambling  in  this  respect,  that 
those  who  lose  at  first  are  often  to  be  envied,  as  in  the  long 
run,  it  probably  saves  them  from  heavier  losses. 

One  morning  nearly  a  month  after  this,  Mortimer  met 
Hamilton,  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  his  mother  had 
warned  him  against  the  man.  Now  they  merely  bowed 
in  passing;  but  the  sight  of  him  recalled  to  the  young  man 
his  reference  to  the  Brants,  and  that  set  him  thinking  about 
what  his  mother  might  have  told  Mrs.  Brant  and  wishing 
that  he  could  see  all  the  home  party. 


I  I  2  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

He  thought  it  over  a  great  deal  at  spare  moments  during 
the  day,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  and  Bertha  might 
go  out  to  Briarley  to  see  them.  With  this  idea  in  mind  he 
hurried  back  at  night  to  Miss  Halsey's,  and  finding  Ber- 
tha busy  practising  in  the  parlor  he  asked : 

"I  say,  Bertha,  would  you  like  a  little  trip?  What 
would  you  say  to  running  out  to  Briarley  to-morrow  and 
spending  the  night  ?" 

"  I  mean  to  go  sometime  when  I  have  a  holiday,"  said 
Bertha  pleasantly. 

"Why  not  now?"  urged  Mortimer.  "You  have  no 
idea  how  pleasant  the  Brants  really  are.  Mother  said  that 
she  would  explain  to  them  all  about  our  connection  with 
the  name  of  Merrivale  and  I  do  think  that  you  ought  to  go 
out  and  see  them." 

"  I  think  that  it  will  be  a  great  mistake  if  mamma  does 
that,"  said  Bertha  quickly.  "People  will  be  very  pleasant 
to  strangers  who  do  them  a  kindness,  but  if  they  think 
themselves  relatives  they  will  take  it  all  as  a  matter  of 
course  and  expect  more." 

"I  don't  think  that  will  be  the  way  in  this  case,"  re- 
plied Mortimer.  "At  all  events  they  know  already  that 
our  aunt' s  name  was  Merrivale,  for  Jessica  spoke  of  it  when 
she  heard  that  Mrs.  Brant's  son  had  that  name;  but  Mrs. 
Brant  only  spoke  of  it  as  a  curious  coincidence." 

"Jessica  is  really  dreadful  for  saying  all  that  comes  into 
her  head,"  remarked  Bertha,  quite  good-naturedly.  "But 
I  cannot  go  to-morrow,  for  Kate  Willoughby  and  her 
brother  are  coming  in  the  evening  to  try  over  some  songs.'' 

She  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys  as  she  finished  speak- 
ing, and  began  to  play  a  song  of  Schubert' s. 

"Write  a  note  and  put  them  off  until  next  evening," 
suggested  Miss  Rachel. 


AN  ACCIDENT  AT  BRIARLEY         113 

"Oh,  no,  I  could  not  do  that,"  replied  Bertha.  "Kate 
and  I  particularly  arranged  for  to-morrow  evening." 

' '  Then  why  not  go  the  day  after  ? ' '  asked  Mortimer. 
"There  is  nothing  to  hinder  on  Wednesday." 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  said  Bertha  carelessly,  while  her 
fingers  still  wandered  over  the  keys. 

Mortimer  turned  away  impatiently  and  went  upstairs. 

"  I  think,  Bertha,  that  you  ought  not  to  try  to  discourage 
your  brother  from  going  home,"  said  Miss  Rachel  reprov- 
ingly. "  Young  men  are  not  often  so  thoughtful  about  their 
mothers  as  Mortimer.  I  was  very  glad  that  he  suggested 
going  out  to  Briarley." 

"  Moi timer  always  was  a  steady  fellow,"  replied  Bertha. 
"  There  is  no  need  to  worry  about  him." 

' '  Steady  fellows  need  sympathy, ' '  remarked  Miss  Rachel. 
"  I  do  not  believe  in  waiting  until  a  young  man  is  a  scamp 
before  taking  any  interest  in  him  and  his  wishes  or  do- 
ings." 

"My  brothers  couldn't  be  scamps  if  they  tried,"  said 
Bertha,  with  a  touch  of  indignant  pride  in  her  tone. 

Miss  Rachel  hoped  that  her  well-meant  hint  would  be 
taken,  but  nothing  more  was  said  about  Briarley  until  the 
next  morning,  when  Mortimer  said  at  the  breakfast  table: 

"  I  think  that  I  will  run  out  home  and  see  them  all  to- 
night; so  do  not  be  uneasy  if  I  don't  turn  up  until  supper 
time  to-morrow." 

"Very  well,"  said  Bertha;  "give  them  my  love  and 
tell  mamma  that  I  am  coming  out  some  day  when  I  have 
a  little  spare  time.  I  will  excuse  you  to  the  Willoughbys." 

"I  wish  that  I  could  go  with  you,  Mortimer,"  said  his 
aunt  in  a  low  tone,  "but  I  would  not  like  to  go  without 
Bertha. ' ' 

"No,"  replied  Mortimer,  "and  it  is  dreadfully  windy 
H 


114  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

this  morning.  March  is  coming  in  like  a  lion  and  it  would 
blow  you  to  pieces ;  but  I'  11  tell  mother  that  we  will  bring 
you  out  when  the  weather  gets  respectable. ' ' 

He  said  good-bye  and  went  off  cheerily;  but  when  he  was 
walking  down  the  street  his  brows  puckered  and  he  mut- 
tered to  himself : 

' '  Something  is  spoiling  Bertha.  She  doesn'  t  seem  to  care 
about  home  a  rap.  It  is  not  all  on  account  of  the  Brants 
either.  I  believe  that  she  has  some  scheme  in  her  head." 

When  he  reached  the  office  however,  all  thoughts  about 
his  own  private  affairs  had  to  be  put  out  of  his  mind. 

Mr.  Palmer  had  returned  from  Chicago  and  was  in  the 
reverse  of  a  good  temper.  He  was  short  with  the  book- 
keeper, irritable  with  Mortimer,  and  roundly  scolded  the 
office  boy.  At  last  Mr.  Davenant  came  in  and  the  two 
gentlemen  retired  to  the  inner  office,  but  Mortimer  could 
catch  parts  of  their  conversation.  He  already  knew  that 
the  trip  to  Chicago  had  been  to  try  to  collect  what  appeared 
to  be  a  bad  debt,  and  from  the  scraps  of  conversation  that 
he  overheard  he  learned  that  it  had  been  an  unsuccessful 
attempt 

"He  offered  me  five  hundred  on  the  thousand,"  said 
Mr.  Palmer  angrily,  "and  I  just  pooh-poohed  the  notion." 

"Better  half  a  loaf  than  no  bread,"  remarked  Mr. 
Davenant  in  his  quiet,  pleasant  voice.  ' '  If  they  are  really 
bankrupt  we  shall  gain  nothing  by  pressing  the  matter." 
Mr.  Davenant  had  hardly  anything  to  do  with  the  tangled 
and  knotty  fletails  of  the  business.  He  had  put  in  a  large 
sum  of  money;  but  it  was  Mr.  Palmer  on  whom  the  practi- 
cal part  of  the  business  chiefly  fell. 

That  gentleman  now  responded  sharply,  but  Mortimer 
could  only  hear,  • '  Rascally  fellow — sharp  game — don' t 
catch  me " 


AN    ACCIDENT    AT    BRIARLEY  I  I  5 

Pretty  soon  Mr.  Davenant  came  out  and  stopped  at  Mor- 
timer's  desk  to  say  a  word  to  him.  He  generally  spoke 
pleasantly  to  all  in  the  office,  and  after  inquiring  for  Mrs. 
Winstead,  he  said  : 

' '  By  the  way,  Mrs.  Davenant  meant  to  ask  if  your  sister 
would  take  charge  of  our  little  girl  and  take  her  out  to  Bri- 
arley  this  evening.  Ethel  Palmer  has  a  party  or  something 
of  that  sort  and  Myrtle  was  to  go,  but  Mrs.  Davenant  has  a 
bad  cold  and  must  not  expose  herself.  I  told  her  that  no 
doubt  your  sister  would  not  mind  the  trip  to  Briarley,  and 
would  take  charge  of  Myrtle  and  fetch  her  home  in  the 
morning  ' ' 

"  I  think  that  Bertha  has  an  engagement  this  evening," 
said  Mortimer;  "  but  I  am  going  out  to  see  mother,  and  if  I 
can  be  trusted  I  should  be  very  glad  to  offer  my  services  as 
escort. ' ' 

"Ah  well,  that  would  be  just  the  thing,  if  you  don't 
mind  the  trouble,"  said  Mr.  Davenant.  "What  train  do 
you  take,  five-thirty  ?  That  is  the  one  that  Myrtle  was  to 
go  on  I  believe." 

Mortimer  assured  him  that  five-thirty  would  suit  him 
exactly,  and  with  a  kindly  nod  Mr.  Davenant  went  out 
Evidently  Mr.  Palmer  had  heard  the  conversation,  for  when 
he  came  through  the  office  a  few  hours  later  he  spoke  of  a 
letter  that  he  expected  by  the  afternoon  mail  and  added  to 
Mortimer  : 

"If  it  comes  you  can  bring  it  with  you,  as  I  want  to  see 
it  to  night,  and  you  can  give  it  to  me  on  the  train." 

Then  he  too  left  the  office  and  Mortimer  worked  away 
till  the  mail  came  in,  when  Mr.  Johnson  handed  him  the 
desired  letter.  About  five  o'clock  he  betook  himself  to  the 
station.  Mr.  Davenant  was  there  with  Myrtle,  and  Mor- 
timer willingly  took  her  under  his  protection. 


Il6  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

It  was,  as  he  had  predicted  to  his  Aunt  Rachel,  a  very 
blustering  night,  and  when  they  reached  Briarley  Mortimer 
made  his  little  charge  wrap  herself  up  warmly  before  he 
hurried  her  across  the  platform  to  the  carriage  that  was 
waiting. 

Mr.  Palmer  had  gone  into  the  station  to  get  his  mail,  but 
as  he  came  out  he  said : 

"  I  suppose  that  letter  did  not  come  from  Cowperthwaite 
&  Appleby,  or  Johnson  would  have  sent  it" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  exclaimed  Mortimer  flushing  with 
annoyance  at  his  forgetfulness,  and  he  hastily  drew  out  the 
letter  and  held  it  out  to  Mr.  Palmer. 

Before  that  gentleman  could  take  it,  or  perhaps  because 
he  took  it  loosely,  the  wind  caught  the  envelope  and  sent 
it  whirling  directly  in  front  of  the  horses.  There  was  a 
sudden  start  and  a  child's  cry  of  terror.  Mortimer,  who 
was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  carriage  and  a  little  in 
front  of  it,  turned  in  time  to  see  Myrtle  lying  on  the  ground 
and  the  wheels  of  the  heavy  carriage  backing  close  upon 
her.  Mr.  Palmer  had  already  jumped  to  the  heads  of  the 
frightened  horses  and  jerked  them  forward  again;  but  his 
action  would  not  have  been  prompt  enough  to  save  Myrtle 
if  some  one  on  the  platform  had  not  seized  the  child  and 
lifted  her  out  of  danger. 

"  Is  she  hurt  ?"  exclaimed  Mortimer,  not  even  glancing 
at  the  gentleman  who  had  rescued  her  as  he  pressed  for- 
ward to  look  at  the  child. 

"  I  hope  not.  Come  into  the  station.  There,  my  child, 
you  are  all  safe  now,"  said  a  kindly,  deliberate  voice  that 
Mortimer  recognized  immediately,  and  he  saw  by  the  light 
of  the  station  lamps  the  face  of  Mr.  Brant.  Myrtle  was 
crying  a  little  from  fright,  but  she  was  making  a  brave  effort 
to  control  herself ;  and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Brant  had  set  her 


AN    ACCIDENT    AT    BRIARLEY  I  I  J 

on  her  feet  in  the  station  she  assured  them  that  she  was  not 
hurt  She  was  very  dusty,  and  as  everybody  in  the  station 
came  crowding  about  her  she  looked  worried  and  shy. 

"You  would  better  get  in  the  carriage  again,"  said  Mr. 
Brant,  noticing  that  the  coachman  had  the  horses  quieted 
and  waiting.  •  •  Don' t  be  nervous.  We  will  have  the  door 
closed  this  time." 

' '  Oh,  no,  please ;  I  would  much  rather  walk, ' '  exclaimed 
Myrtle. 

"All  right,"  said  Mortimer,  "I'll  take  you.  Just  let 
me  tell  Mr.  Palmer;"  but  as  he  turned  to  do  so,  he  saw 
that  Mr  Palmer  was  limping  painfully. 

"  I  say,  Mortimer,"  he  called,  "lend  me  your  arm,  won't 
you  !  I  have  given  my  ankle  an  ugly  twist ' ' 

The  coachman  had  his  hands  full  with  keeping  the  horses 
quiet,  and  it  was  Mortimer  who  had  partly  to  lift  Mr. 
Palmer  into  the  carriage.  He  was  a  very  heavy  man  and 
evidently  each  movement  caused  him  severe  pain  in  his 
foot 

"Where  is  the  child?"  he  asked  shortly.  "I  thought 
she  was  safely  in  the  carriage." 

"I  put  her  in  while  you  were  getting  your  mail,"  re- 
plied Mortimer;  "but  I  suppose  she  leaned  out  and  lost 
her  balance  when  the  horses  started." 

"Trust  children  to  be  up  to  some  fool  tricks,"  growled 
Mr.  Palmer.  "James  tells  me  she  is  all  right;  but  it  is  a 
wonder  that  she  was  not  killed.  Where  is  she  now?  I 
can't  wait  here  all  night  with  this  wretched  ankle,"  and 
he  drew  in  his  lips  with  a  short  whistle  as  he  tried  to  move 
his  foot 

' '  She  was  frightened  and  did  not  want  to  get  in  again. 
Mr.  Brant,  who  picked  her  up,  said  that  he  would  walk  up 
with  her.  I  can  go  with  you,  sir,  if  you  like." 


Il8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

• '  Nonsense  !  Go  and  look  after  the  child  if  you  want  to 
make  yourself  useful, ' '  replied  Mr.  Palmer.  ' '  Since  she 
did  not  succeed  in  breaking  a  bone  she  is  bound  to  catch 
a  cold  in  this  wind,  I  suppose." 

Mortimer  saw  too  plainly  how  much  he  was  suffering  to 
resent  his  surly  tone,  and  he  knew  that  Myrtle  really  owed 
her  escape  as  much  to  Mr.  Palmer's  prompt  action  as  to 
Mr.  Brant's  assistance.  He  ran  quickly  after  the  retreating 
figures  of  Mr.  Brant  and  the  little  girl,  and  proved  himself 
a  valuable  assistant  to  them  in  facing  the  keen,  strong 
blasts. 


CHAPTER  XII 
MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK 

'"T^HAT  little  girl  is  a  very  attractive  child,"  said  Mr. 
A       Brant  as  he  and  Mortimer  went  down  the  hill  after 
leaving  Myrtle  at  Mr.  Palmer's.       "Is  she  related  to  Mr. 
Palmer' s  family  ? ' ' 

"She  is  the  daughter  of  his  partner,"  replied  Mortimer. 
"  I  don't  think  that  there  is  any  relationship  between  the 
families.  At  least  I  never  heard  of  any." 

"Ah,  then  her  name  is  Davenant,"  said  Mr.  Brant 
thoughtfully.  "I  have  no  recollection  of  that  name." 

Mortimer  did  not  see  why  Mr.  Brant  should  have  any 
recollection  of  the  name,  but  as  the  wind  was  a  great 
hindrance  to  conversation  and  they  were  nearly  at  their 
own  door  he  said  nothing  more  about  the  matter. 

The  accident  was  mentioned  at  the  supper  table  and 
when  Mortimer  described  Mr.  Brant's  share  in  rescuing 
Myrtle  from  her  perilous  position,  Mrs.  Winstead  exclaimed ; 

"You  have  made  a  good  friend,  Mr.  Brant,  for  I  know 
Mrs.  Davenant  is  wrapped  up  in  this  child.  She  has  lost 
three  children;  two  died  when  only  a  few  months  old  and 
the  third,  a  fine  little  boy  of  three  or  four,  was  killed  by 
an  accident  The  horse  ran  away,  and  he  was  thrown  from 
the  carriage.  It  happened  seven  or  eight  years  ago,  I  be- 
lieve, before  I  met  her  at  all ;  but  you  can  see  how  she  will 
be  likely  to  feel  about  Myrtle' s  escape  now. ' ' 

"I  think  that  this  accident  should  be  spoken  of  as 
lightly  as  possible  to  her,"  said  Mr.  Brant,  with  more  deci- 

119 


I2O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

sion  than  Mrs.  Winstead  had  heard  him  use  before.  "It 
would  be  better  if  the  matter  could  be  dropped  entirely; 
but  of  course  the  little  girl  will  talk  of  it  and  she  should 
not  be  advised  to  keep  any  secrets  from  her  mother.  You, 
Mortimer,  need  not  mention  my  name. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  no ! "  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  ' '  I  see  no  reason  why 
you  should  feel  like  that.  I  think  that  Mrs.  Davenant  would 
rather  know  all  about  it,  and  I  have  always  heard  that  she 
was  remarkable  for  her  tact.  You  need  not  be  afraid  that 
she  will  burden  you  with  demonstrations  of  gratitude. ' ' 

Mr.  Brant  smiled  too,  but  held  to  his  own  opinion. 

"Now  you  are  real  foolish,"  began  his  wife  briskly; 
for  she  had  heard  enough  of  Mortimer's  employers  to  be 
sure  that  the  Davenants  were  wealthy  and  influential. 
While  she  had  too  much  sturdy  independence  to  wish  to 
form  acquaintance  with  any  one  for  the  sake  of  riches  or 
influence,  she  was  shrewd  enough  to  appreciate  the  ad- 
vantages that  fell  in  her  way  unsought  But  her  husband 
only  replied : 

"  I  think,  my  dear,  that  I  can  in  this  matter  form  a  more 
unbiased  judgment  than  can  you  or  my  kind  friends;  and 
I  greatly  prefer  that  my  name  should  not  be  mentioned.  I 
advise  you,  Mortimer,  not  to  dwell  any  more  than  proves 
unavoidable  upon  the  risk  incurred  by  the  child." 

He  spoke  very  quietly,  but  so  decidedly  that  his  wife 
made  no  further  objection,  and  nothing  more  was  said  on 
the  subject. 

The  next  morning  Mortimer  received  a  message  from 
Mr.  Palmer  asking  him  to  come  to  the  house  before  going 
to  town.  He  found  that  Mr.  Palmer's  ankle  was  so  badly 
sprained  that  it  would  keep  him  from  the  office,  and  Mor- 
timer had  to  take  several  messages  from  him,  and  also 
escort  Myrtle  back  to  town.  When  they  reached  her  home 


MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK  121 

he  did  not  see  Mrs.  Davenant  and  had  to  hurry  on  to  the 
office  with  as  little  delay  as  possible.  Before  he  reached  it 
he  was  hailed  by  Mark  Willoughby  and  they  were  on  suf- 
ficiently intimate  terms  for  Mark  to  begin  this  time  with 
very  little  preface  to  ask  him  for  a  loan. 

"I  am  sorry  to  bother  you,"  said  Mark;  "but  the  fact 
is  that  the  old  gentleman  has  come  back  so  crabbed  on 
account  of  the  failure  of  some  Chicago  firm,  that  I  would 
not  dare  to  strike  him  for  a  two-cent  stamp  to-day." 

As  Mortimer  was  able  to  accommodate  his  friend  he 
did  not  like  to  refuse  and  he  promised  to  let  him  have 
what  he  needed  as  soon  as  he  got  out  of  the  office.  Mark 
was  profuse  in  his  thanks  and  then  added : 

"If  you  want  to  do  a  little  stroke  of  business  on  your 
own  account,  I  can  put  you  up  to  a  good  thing.  I  know  a 
fellow  who  is  a  sort  of  right-hand  man  to  one  of  those  big 
mine  owners  out  in  Colorado.  He  has  come  East  on  busi- 
ness for  his  employers,  and  he  let  me  into  a  thing  or  two 
that  would  double  a  couple  of  hundreds  for  me  pretty  quick. 
In  fact  I  would  like  to  put  more  into  it  if  I  had  it. ' ' 

•'What  is  it?"  asked  Mortimer.  "I  have  no  great 
faith  in  these  mining  affairs." 

"Nor  have  I,"  replied  Mark,  "when  it  is  all  a  'pig  in 
a  poke '  business.  But  this  man  appears  to  know  what  he 
is  talking  about,  and  he  has  evidently  taken  a  great  fancy 
to  me.  His  name  is  Hamilton." 

"Then  don't  have  a  thing  to  do  with  him  or  his  busi- 
ness," said  Mortimer  decidedly.  "  I  know  he  is  a  rascal, 
and  I  am  pretty  sure  that  his  business  is  a  fraud." 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?"  asked  Mark. 

"No,  not  exactly;  but  I  have  seen  him  and  I  know 
about  him,"  said  Mortimer.  "I  hope  you  have  not  put 
any  money  in  his  hands." 


122  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  Mark  carelessly  ;  "and  I'll  fight  shy 
of  him  if  he  is  the  sort  you  say. ' ' 

"I  wish  you  would,"  said  Mortimer,  and  then  they 
parted  at  the  door  of  Palmer  &  Davenant'  s  office. 

Mortimer  liked  Mark  much  too  well  to  relish  the  idea  of 
his  falling  a  prey  to  the  rogues  that  watch  for  rich  men' s 
sons,  and  the  thought  that  Hamilton  was  setting  traps  for 
him  troubled  him  all  that  day.  He  left  the  office  as  early 
as  he  could  to  meet  Mark,  as  he  had  promised  to  do,  and 
hand  him  the  money  that  he  intended  to  loan  him.  Mark 
was  waiting  for  him  as  he  came  out  of  Miss  Halsey's  with 
the  money,  but  was  evidently  in  a  great  hurry,  so  Morti- 
mer had  only  a  chance  to  slip  in  another  word  of  warning 
against  Hamilton. 

"All  right,  old  fellow,"  said  Mark,  "I  shall  not  forget, 
and  I'll  keep  a  sharp  watch  on  the  man." 

"You  would  better  let  him  alone  altogether,"  said  Mor- 
timer bluntly.  "I  don't  see  any  fun  in  watching  a  rogue 
unless  by  ill  luck  he  happens  to  have  one' s  money  in  his 
pocket ;  and  you  say  he  has  not  got  yours." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Mark  ;  "and  you  are  an  out  and 
out  good  fellow  to  help  me  this  time.  F 11  mind  your  warn- 
ing, and  I'  11  bring  this  money  back  to  you  in  a  day  or  two. 
The  governor  will  get  settled  down  then,  and  I  can  draw 
on  him  again." 

Mortimer  did  not  like  the  easy  way  in  which  Mark  spoke, 
but  he  could  do  nothing  more. 

Mr.  Palmer's  absence  from  the  office  upset  the  usual 
routine,  and  as  the  bookkeeper  also  was  kept  at  home 
with  a  severe  attack  of  rheumatism,  Mortimer's  office  work 
was  particularly  heavy.  He  had  not  seen  Mark  for  several 
days,  and  he  was  feeling  depressed  and  rather  cross  over 
the  business  that  he  had  to  attend  to  as  he  left  his  desk  one 


MORTIMERS    NOTE   TO    MARK  123 

evening  in  the  latter  part  of  the  week  Mr.  Davenant  had 
just  gone  out  and  Mortimer  had  one  arm  half-way  into  the 
sleeve  of  his  overcoat  when  Mark  appeared  at  the  office 
door.  He  looked  pale  and  rather  worn,  but  he  spoke 
cheerily  as  he  came  in  and  helped  Mortimer  to  put  on  his 
coat 

"Any  word  of  that  rise  in  salary  ?"  he  asked. 

"No,  not  a  word,"  growled  Mortimer. 

"  Never  mind,  don't  look  so  glum;  You  are  not  half  so 
badly  off  as  I  am  at  this  moment  You  will  get  what  is 
due  you  to-morrow,  and  I  shall  not  get  a  cent" 

"What  is  the  matter  ?"  asked  Mortimer  anxiously. 

They  were  by  this  time  out  in  the  street  The  weather 
had  grown  milder  and  the  snow  was  thawing.  The  street 
lamps  that  had  just  been  lighted  were  reflected  in  black 
puddles  at  every  crossing,  and  the  raw  air  felt  colder  than 
on  the  clear  frosty  nights  of  the  earlier  part  of  the  month. 

' '  There  is  a  good  deal  the  matter, ' '  said  Mark  wearily. 
"First,  I  am  out  of  Harvey  &  Blake's.  There  wasn't  any 
complaint ;  they  just  said  they  were  cutting  down  forces 
and  didn't  need  me  any  more  ;  but  it  has  made  a  tre- 
mendous row  at  home.  My  father  is  just  about  as  mad  as 
he  gets,  and  that  is  nothing  small,  let  me  tell  you." 

"But  he  can't  blame  you,  surely,"  said  Mortimer. 

' '  Oh,  can' t  he,  though  ? ' '  said  Mark  with  a  short  laugh. 
"  If  you  had  been  behind  the  door  last  night,  you  would 
have  changed  your  mind  on  that  point  pretty  quickly.  He 
says  that  I  must  have  been  lazy  and  shiftless  or  they  would 
have  shipped  off  somebody  else  and  kept  me.  Why,  I 
was  the  youngest  in  the  place,  and  therefore  I  was  sure  to 
go  if  they  began  cutting  down  ;  but  he  won' t  listen  to  reason. 
The  fact  is  that  those  Chicago  people  have  not  settled  up  ; 
and  that  I  suppose  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  row." 


124  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"I'm  sorry  Mr.  Willoughby  looks  at  it  in  that  way,"  said 
Mortimer.  ' '  But  after  all  it  won' t  hurt  you,  Mark.  You 
are  not  like  me.  You  can  afford  to  wait  for  another  chance 
and  maybe  you  will  do  better  next  time." 

"  That's  just  where  you  are  out,"  replied  Mark  irritably  ; 
"I  can't  afford  to  wait ;  there  is  a  fellow  dunning  me  for 
money  on  a  note  that  I  gave  him  a  month  ago,  and  as  I 
can' t  pay  it  he  says  that  he'  11  go  to  my  father.  Of  course 
if  he  goes  while  the  old  gentleman  is  in  his  present  state  of 
mind,  my  goose  is  cooked.  The  fellow  may  get  his  money, 
but  I  shall  certainly  be  fired  out" 

"Can't  you  get  him  to  wait?"  asked  Mortimer,  who 
could  hardly  understand  how  the  son  of  the  rich  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby could  be  so  frequently  hard  pressed  for  money.  ' '  I 
should  think  that  he  would  be  willing  to  have  the  note  re- 
newed if  you  could  give  him  a  part  in  cash. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  could  do  that,"  replied  Mark;  "but  you  see  he 
wants  the  note  endorsed."  Then  suddenly  he  said:  "I  say, 
old  man,  maybe  you  would  not  mind  endorsing  for  me  ? ' ' 

"How  much  is  it  for?"  asked  Mortimer,  too  much  sur- 
prised by  the  request  to  have  any  definite  reply  ready. 

"A  hundred  and  fifty,"  replied  Mark. 

"  Oh,  I  could  not  possibly  do  that;  it  would  take  a  whole 
quarter's  salary  to  pay  it,"  exclaimed  Mortimer. 

"Of  course  you  would  not  have  to  pay  it,"  said  Mark 
testily;  "  only  to  endorse  so  that  I  could  have  a  chance  to 
get  on  my  feet  again." 

Mortimer  shook  his  head.  He  might  be  led  into  foolish 
lending  to  oblige  his  friend,  but  endorsing  a  note  when  he 
had  not  the  money  to  meet  it,  and  when  he  knew  that  his 
friend  had  not  the  money,  was  to  his  straightforward  mind 
too  much  like  lying.  Still  he  hated  to  seem  churlish  and 
unsympathetic  and  he  answered  evasively: 


MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK  125 

"Who  is  the  man  ?  I  don't  believe  that  he  would  take 
my  endorsement" 

"  Don't  worry  about  that  He  will  take  it  fast  enough," 
replied  Mark,  neglecting  the  first  part  of  the  query.  "  He 
knows  that  you  have  a  good  situation.  If  I  had  not  had  the 
wretched  luck  to  lose  mine  just  when  I  did,  he  would  have 
taken  my  personal  note  without  bothering  for  endorse- 
ment" 

"  If  I  had  gotten  that  increase  in  salary  I  might  do  some- 
thing," began  Mortimer  hesitatingly.  "  But  fifty  a  month 
seems  very  little  when  one  lives  in  town,  and  Mr.  Palmer 
seems  to  have  forgotten  all  about  that  little  matter." 

Mortimer  stopped  short,  for  a  portly  gentleman  leaning 
heavily  on  a  cane  passed  close  by  them  and  signalled  a 
street  car  that  was  just  coming  up  to  the  corner.  Under 
the  light  of  the  street  lamp  Mortimer  recognized  Mr. 
Palmer,  and  he  was  sure  that  the  gentleman  turned  his 
head  and  cast  a  keen  glance  back  at  the  two  young  men 
as  he  painfully  mounted  the  step  of  the  car. 

' '  I  did  not  know  that  he  was  able  to  come  to  town ;  he 
was  not  at  the  office.  I  wonder  whether  he  heard, ' '  mut- 
tered Mortimer,  feeling  uncomfortably  conscious  that  in 
his  annoyance  he  had  been  speaking  in  a  cross  tone  that 
he  never  before  had  used  in  speaking  of  his  employers. 

• '  Small  harm  if  he  did.  Maybe  it  will  jog  his  memory, ' ' 
carelessly  answered  Mark,  who  had  also  recognized  his 
uncle.  ' '  But  come  now,  we  are  almost  at  your  boarding 
house,  and  you  will  do  me  this  good  turn,  won't  you  ?" 

"No,  I  can't;  it  would  not  be  honest,"  replied  Mor- 
timer sturdily.  "  But  why  not  try  if  the  man  will  wait  a  bit 
for  part  of  the  cash  down.  I  might  help  you  in  that  way. 
Who  is  he?" 

"You  don't  know  him,"  said  Mark  evasively.       "I've 


126  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

no  doubt  that  he  would  jump  at  seventy-five  in  cash  and 
call  it  square;  but  I  don't  want  your  money." 

"And  I  have  not  got  seventy-five  to  spare,"  returned 
Mortimer  shortly,  "and  I  won' t  endorse.  I  would  not  do  it 
for  my  own  brother  if  I  had  not  the  money  to  pay,  so  I 
don' t  see  any  use  in  talking  any  more  about  the  matter. ' ' 

They  had  just  reached  Miss  Halsey's  and  Mortimer  said 
a  short  good-night  and  sprang  up  the  steps  feeling  very 
cross  and  irritated.  But  his  irritation  was  entirely  caused 
by  vexation  that  he  could  not  help  his  friend,  although  it 
hurt  him  that  Mark  should  come  to  him  with  such  requests. 
When  he  reached  his  room  he  pulled  out  a  little  memoran- 
dum of  various  small  sums  that  he  had  loaned  Mark  at  dif- 
ferent times  and  tried  hard  to  pursuade  himself  that  he 
was  indignant  with  his  friend;  but  in  spite  of  his  firm  con- 
viction that  Mark  had  no  right  to  come  to  a  young  man 
who  was  no  better  off  than  he  was  to  borrow  money,  Mor- 
timer had  too  much  of  his  father' s  easy,  kindly  nature  not 
to  be  ready  to  see  excuses,  and  he  felt  very  uncomfortable 
as  he  thought  of  Mark  going  home  with  the  idea  that  he, 
Mortimer,  was  a  stingy  fellow,  and  only  a  fair-weather 
friend.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  rigid  ideas  of  strict 
honesty  that  his  mother  had  drilled  into  him,  Mortimer 
would  have  been  as  easily  led  into  grave  entanglements  as 
his  father  had  been. 

"I  have  a  great  mind  to  lend  him  what  I  have  coming 
to  me  this  month,"  he  thought  with  an  impatient  shake. 
"  Mother  doesn't  need  it,  she  says,  and  I'm  sure  Bertha  is 
earning  all  that  she  needs.  I  do  hate  to  seem  stingy  and 
I'  m  sure  if  I  were  a  Vanderbilt  I  would  be  one  of  the  most 
generous  fellows  living.  I  do  wish  that  I  knew  what  I 
ought  to  do." 

With  this  final  worried  desire  Mortimer  ran  downstairs 


MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK  127 

to  tea.  He  was  already  beginning  to  forget  the  one  Friend 
who  is  never  out  of  reach  when  troubles  and  perplexities 
assail  us,  and  thus  he  sought  no  answer  to  his  query  save 
in  his  own  perplexed  mind.  Miss  Clive  had  slipped  into 
the  mistake  that  the  people  sometimes  make  of  giving  all 
her  thought  and  attention  to  the  wayward  one,  forgetful  of 
the  fact  that  dangers  and  temptations  will  come  before 
trusty  and  sensible  people  as  well  as  before  the  giddy 
ones,  and  the  wisest  often  need  a  little  kindly  watchcare. 
Thus  while  Bertha  was  very  rarely  out  of  her  thoughts,  it 
never  occurred  to  her  to  try  to  win  the  confidence  of  the 
quiet,  steady  Mortimer,  as  his  mother  had  always  taken 
pains  to  do. 

The  next  morning  he  set  off  to  the  office  still  in  an  un-* 
comfortable  frame  of  mind.  He  expected  to  see  Mr. 
Palmer  that  morning,  and  he  had  a  lurking  hope  that  there 
might  be  something  said  about  the  rise  in  salary  He  was 
surprised  to  find  no  one  there,  not  even  the  office  boy,  al- 
though the  office  was  open  and  even  the  door  of  Mr. 
Palmer's  private  office  stood  ajar. 

However  he  had  too  much  to  do  to  waste  time,  as  he 
knew  that  the  bookkeeper  was  still  laid  up.  In  a  few 
moments  the  office  boy  appeared  and  Mortimer  asked  him 
rather  sharply  where  he  had  been. 

"  I  just  ran  out  to  post  a  letter  for  a  gentleman  who  came 
in  a  bit  ago,"  said  the  boy.  "Mr.  Davenant  came  about 
half  an  hour  ago,  but  he  went  out  again  and  told  me  to 
say  to  you  when  you  come,  as  Mr.  Palmer  was  still  laid  up, 
but  he'd  be  back  himself  in  half  an  hour." 

"Who  was  the  gentleman?"  asked  Mortimer. 

' '  He  didn'  t  give  no  name, ' '  replied  the  boy.  ' '  He  just 
asked  for  Mr.  Palmer,  and  when  I  told  him  Mr.  Davenant 
would  be  in  soon  he  sat  down.  Then  he  saw  the  postman 


128  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

taking  the  letters  out  of  the  box  at  the  corner  over  there, 
and  he  jumped  up  in  a  hurry  and  pulled  a  letter  out  of  his 
pocket  and  said  as  how  he  had  forgot  to  mail  it,  and  it 
was  important,  and  would  I  run  after  the  postman  with  it" 

"  Well,  there  was  nobody  here  when  I  came  in  a  minute 
ago,"  said  Mortimer  sharply;  "and  you  had  no  business 
to  go  off  and  leave  the  office  like  that. ' ' 

As  he  spoke  Mr.  Davenant  returned. 

"Ah,  good  morning,  Winstead,"  he  said  in  his  cheery 
way  as  he  passed  Mortimer's  desk.  "  Extra  work  for  both 
of  us  still,  as  I  hear  Johnson  can' t  be  out  for  several  days 
yet;  and  Mr.  Palmer  tried  to  come  to  town  yesterday  but 
he  was  little  too  quick  at  getting  about  I  suppose,  for  he 
telegraphed  me  this  morning  that  he  could  not  get  in  to- 
day. Nobody  been  in  this  morning  ?  I  was  expecting — 
oh,  good  morning,  Mr.  Appleby,"  and  he  turned  to  greet 
a  gentleman  who  at  that  moment  came  in. 

Mortimer  recognized  him  as  a  member  of  the  bankrupt 
Chicago  firm,  and  as  Mr.  Davenant  took  him  into  the  inner 
room  and  closed  the  door  Mortimer  turned  again  to  his 
work,  thinking  that  if  it  had  been  Mr.  Palmer  he  would 
not  have  risked  being  out  when  he  expected  a  man  to  pay 
him  money.  But  Mr.  Davenant  was  totally  different  from 
Mr.  Palmer,  and  one  could  never  tell  how  early  or  how  late 
he  might  come  to  the  office,  nor  when  he  would  go  out. 

After  a  little  while  the  door  of  the  inner  office  opened 
again  and  Mr.  Davenant  and  Mr.  Appleby  came  out.  Mr. 
Davenant  had  some  coins  in  his  left  hand,  and  Mortimer 
noticed  that  as  he  talked  he  drew  out  of  his  pocket  the 
safe  key  and  negligently  rapped  it  on  the  coins  that  lay 
in  the  palm  of  his  other  hand.  Suddenly  the  key 
slipped  from  his  fingers  and  fell  to  his  feet  just  as  Mr. 
Appleby  held  out  his  hand  to  say  good-bye.  Mr.  Davenant 


MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK  129 

seeing  the  outstretched  hand  checked  himself  as  he  was 
stooping  for  the  key  and  shook  hands,  while  Mortimer, 
noticing  the  slight  embarrassment,  sprang  from  his  stool, 
picked  up  the  key  and  restored  it  to  him. 

' '  Did  you  drop  anything  else,  sir  ? "  asked  Mortimer, 
who  thought  that  he  had  heard  the  ring  of  something  else 
on  the  floor. 

"Ah,  thank  you,  Winstead.  No,  no,  that  was  all,"  said 
Mr.  Davenant  hastily,  as  he  thrust  the  key  back  in  his 
pocket  Then  he  walked  with  Mr.  Appleby  to  the  door, 
and  Mortimer  gave  a  quick  glance  around,  but  there  was 
nothing  to  be  seen  on  the  floor.  He  then  retreated  to  his 
desk,  making  no  further  search,  for  Mr.  Davenant,  with  all 
his  kindly,  friendly  manner,  had  also  a  little  nervous  irrita- 
bility about  him  if  any  small  thing  happened  to  embarrass 
him,  which  was  a  marked  contrast  to  the  cool,  imperturbable 
self-control  that  was  never  known  to  desert  Mr.  Palmer  in 
the  office. 

"If  he  really  dropped  any  money,  he  will  find  it  out 
when  he  counts  it  over  after  Mr.  Appleby  is  gone, ' '  thought 
Mortimer;  "I  won't  bother  him  by  looking  about  more 
carefully  now." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  Mr.  Appleby,  Mr.  Davenant 
turned  to  Mortimer  and  said  cheerfully: 

"Well,  that  is  not  such  a  bad  beginning  for  the  day's 
work.  I  don' t  have  half  as  much  to  do  with  the  business 
as  Mr.  Palmer,  but  here  I  have  just  made  a  haul  that  is  one- 
half  better  than  he  expected  to  make.  Come  in  here,  my 
boy,  I  need  you." 

He  went  back  to  the  inner  room  and  Mortimer  following 
him  saw  him  clap  down  the  coins  that  he  had  in  his  hand 
upon  a  pile  of  bank  notes  that  lay  on  the  desk,  and  then  for 
the  first  time  the  young  man  saw  that  they  were  gold  coins. 

I 


I3O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"There,"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  "I've  just  settled  for 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  that  debt  on  which  Mr.  Palmer 
thought  that  we  should  do  well  if  we  got  five  hundred  ;  and 
in  fact  I  believe  that  he  was  beginning  to  despair  of  getting 
even  that.  Now  what  I  want  is  to  get  hold  of  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby.  Do  you  think  you  could  run  up  to  his  house  with 
a  note  and  get  back  in  fifteen  minutes." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Mortimer. 

"Very  well,  sit  down  there  while  I  write,"  said  Mr. 
Davenant. 

He  moved  the  money  to  a  little  slide  that  was  drawn 
out  above  the  side  drawer  of  the  desk,  and  Mortimer  sat 
down  on  a  chair  that  stood  close  beside  it.  A  slight  noise, 
as  of  some  one  moving  in  the  next  room,  made  Mortimer 
turn  and  look  behind  him  toward  the  communicating  door 
between  the  two  offices;  but  the  door  of  a  closet  in  which 
Mr.  Palmer  usually  hung  his  coat  and  hat  stood  partly  open, 
and  prevented  him  from  seeing  either  the  entrance  door  of 
the  outer  office  or  his  own  desk. 

Mr.  Davenant  had  his  back  turned  and  was  taking  a 
sheet  of  paper  from  a  drawer  on  the  other  side  of  the  desk. 

"I  think,  sir,  that  somebody  came  in.  Shall  I  go  and 
see  ? ' '  asked  Mortimer,  and  as  he  spoke  there  was  an  un- 
mistakable sound  of  the  outer  door  closing  and  footsteps  in 
the  next  room. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  "but  don't  let  me  be  dis- 
turbed till  I  have  finished  my  note." 

Mortimer  rose  and  crossed  the  office,  pausing  a  moment 
before  he  went  out  to  close  the  closet  door  that  was  close 
beside  the  door  of  communication.  Even  in  this  little 
matter  he  noted  the  contrast  between  the  two  partners.  Mr. 
Palmer  was  always  methodical  and  exact.  No  left-open 
doors  nor  loose  papers  were  to  be  found  in  the  room  when 


MORTIMER  S    NOTE    TO    MARK  I  3  I 

he  occupied  it,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  see  everything,  and 
to  fasten  upon  any  carelessness  of  those  in  his  employ. 
Mr.  Davenant,  although  he  had  evidently  opened  the  closet 
door,  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to  hang  up  his  coat  and 
hat,  for  Mortimer  noticed  that  they  were  lying  on  a  chair. 
He  did  not  disturb  them  but  went  into  the  outer  office, 
where  to  his  surprise  he  beheld,  perched  on  the  stool  before 
his  own  desk,  his  brother  Jack. 

"Hello!  how  did  you  get  here?  What's  up?"  ex- 
claimed Mortimer. 

"Nothing  particular,"  replied  Jack,  "only  I  tore  my 
coat  out  sledding  and  mother  told  me  to  come  in  and  see  if 
you  could  go  with  me  to  get  another." 

"You  little  mischief,"  grumbled  Mortimer.  "What  do 
you  mean  by  tearing  your  overcoat  so  near  the  end  of  the 
winter  ?  you  will  outgrow  a  new  one  before  next  winter." 

"The  old  thing  is  pretty  shabby  and  it's  an  awful  tear. 
I  can't  wear  that  to  church,"  said  Jack,  turning  to  display 
the  carefully  mended  rent.  "If  you'll  tell  me  how  soon 
you  can  stop  forme  I'll  run  up  to  Miss  Halsey's.  I  can 
see  Bertha  and  wait  for  you  there. ' ' 

"Stop  a  moment,"  said  Mortimer,    "I  have  to  go  out 

with  a  message  now "   but  as  he  spoke    Mr.  Davenant 

came  into  the  room  with  a  letter  in  his^hand. 

"Your  brother,  Winstead?"  he  asked.  "Hum,  how 
do  you  do,  my  boy  ?  What' s  wrong  with  that  coat  of 
yours  ?"  For  Jack's  boyish  treble  had  been  clearly  audible 
in  the  next  room,  though  Mortimer  had  toned  his  replies 
lower.  "Well,  well."  Mr.  Davenant  continued,  laughing 
as  he  surveyed  the  rent,  "that  reminds  me  of  my  sledding 
days.  But  see  here,  Mortimer,  if  your  brother  is  as  bright 
a  lad  as  he  looks  I've  no  doubt  that  he  could  carry  this 
note  and  save  your  time.  What  do  you  say,  Jack — that' s 


132  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

your  name  isn't  it?  Do  you  know  the  way  to  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby'  s  ? " 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,"  exclaimed  Jack,  highly  pleased. 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Davenant  briskly,  "our  office 
boy  would  take  all  day  and  I  see  that  he  is  as  usual  out  of 
the  way  ;  but  I'll  bet  that  you  will  be  back  in  less  than  fif- 
teen minutes.  Bring  me  an  answer  if  he' s  in  ;  and  if  he  is 
not  in,  just  ask  where  he  is  and  bring  me  word." 

"I'll  do  it,  sir,  if  Mr.  Willoughby  don't  keep  me  wait- 
ing," said  Jack  confidently.  Meanwhile  Mortimer  was 
hastily  fumbling  in  his  pocket  He  pulled  out  a  pencil 
and  as  he  did  so  a  bunch  of  keys  and  one  or  two  pennies 
rolled  on  the  floor.  Jack  scrambled  for  them  while  Mr. 
Davenant  was  sealing  the  envelope  of  his  letter  and  at  the 
same  time  Mortimer  scribbled  hastily  on  a  blank  page  of 
paper, 

I  can  fix  it  Come  to  me  this  evening  and  I  can  let  you 
have  the  money.  M.  W. 

March  31,  1880. 

He  thrust  this  into  an  envelope  and  directed  it  to  Mr. 
Mark  Willoughby.  Mr.  Davenant  had  handed  his  note  to 
Jack  and  was  leaving  the  room.  Jack  also  had  turned 
toward  the  street  door,  but  Mortimer  sprang  after  him  and 
shoved  the  envelope  into  his  hand  saying  in  a  low  tone, 

"You  know  him.  Give  this  to  him  if  you  see  him  or 
else  leave  it  for  him  ;  it  won't  delay  you  a  minute." 

Jack  was  off  like  a  shot  and  Mortimer  heaved  a  sigh  of 
relief.  He  had  felt  worried  ever  since  he  had  refused  to  help 
Mark,  and  when  Mr.  Davenant  spoke  of  sending  him  to 
Mr.  Willoughby' s  his  first  thought  was  that  he  would  prob- 
ably have  a  chance  to  see  Mark  or  leave  word  for  him. 
Mr.  Davenant' s  sudden  change  of  plan  in  sending  Jack  dis- 


MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK  133 

concerted  him,  and  he  had  to  think  and  act  quickly  if  he 
meant  to  do  anything.  He  knew  very  well  that  Mr.  Palmer 
would  have  been  extremely  indignant  that  a  messenger  of 
his  should  be  encumbered  with  any  other  person's  message, 
but  he  justified  himself  by  thinking  that  Mr.  Davenant  was 
not  so  unnecessarily  strict  At  a  call  from  the  next  room 
he  hurried  in  with  flushed  face  and  quick-beating  heart, 
almost  expecting  a  reprimand,  though  he  had  tried  to  speak 
too  low  to  be  overheard. 

His  fears  were  quickly  set  at  rest  for  Mr.  Davenant  only 
said :  ' '  Your  salary  is  due  to-day,  Winstead.  Do  you 
usually  get  cash  or  check  ? ' ' 

"Usually  cash,"  replied  Mortimer,  who  had  his  own 
reasons  for  wishing  cash  to-day. 

"All  right,"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  handing  him  a  fifty- 
dollar  note  from  the  pile  on  the  desk. 

Mortimer  thanked  him  and  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  to 
get  his  pocketbook.  As  he  did  so  he  missed  his  keys. 

"That  scamp  Jack  must  have  carried  them  off,"  he 
thought.  ' '  But  luckily  they  were  all  my  own  private  keys, 
there  were  none  of  the  office  keys  among  them." 

As  he  returned  to  his  desk  he  was  figuring  up  in  his  mind 
how  much  he  could  let  Mark  have. 

In  less  than  fifteen  minutes  Jack  returned  red  and  breath- 
less. He  had  Mr.  Davenant' s  letter  in  his  hand. 

"Mr.  Willoughby  has  gone  out  to  Mr.  Palmer's,  sir;  so 
I  did  not  leave  this  but  I  can  take  it  there  when  I  go  home 
if  you  will  let  me,"  he  said  eagerly. 

Mr.  Davenant  puckered  his  brows  and  thought  for  a 
moment,  then  took  the  letter  from  Jack' s  hand  and  said : 

• '  See  here,  Winstead,  I  shall  have  to  get  you  to  attend 
to  this  business.  Sit  down  there,  Jack,  and  wait  a  minute." 

Jack  betook  himself  to  his  old  perch  at  Mortimer's  desk, 


134  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

and  Mr.  Davenant,  taking  a  strong  envelope  from  a  drawer, 
proceeded  to  put  into  it  the  pile  of  money  that  was  still 
lying  on  the  slide  of  his  desk. 

"There,"  he  said.  "It  is  important  that  Mr.  Palmer 
should  have  this  money  to-day  and  I  can' t  go,  as  there  is  a 
man  coming  here  to  see  me,  whom  I  must  not  miss. ' ' 

"  Maybe  that  is  the  one  who  called  this  morning  before 
you  came  in,"  said  Mortimer. 

« '  Whew,  that  is  unlucky !  Why  didn'  t  he  wait  ? ' '  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Davenant.  "I  would  not  have  missed  Cal- 
lender  for  a  good  deal. ' ' 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  was  Mr.  Callender.  I  did  not  see 
him,  for  he  had  gone  when  I  came  in,"  replied  Mortimer. 
"The  office  boy  told  me." 

'  •  Where  is  the  young  rascal  ? ' '  said  Mr.  Davenant  irri- 
tably ;  "he  is  more  trouble  than  he's  worth,"  and  he  rose 
and  pushed  back  a  sliding  window  in  the  wall  that  gave  a 
view  of  the  outer  office.  "Hello,  there  he  is.  Tom,  who 
was  that  came  here  to  see  me  this  morning  ? ' ' 

Mortimer  knew  very  well  that  Tom  had  been  taking 
advantage  of  Mr.  Palmer' s  absence  to  loaf ;  so  he  was  not 
surprised  that  the  boy  stammered  and  flushed  when  the 
usually  easy-going  Mr.  Davenant  spoke  to  him  so  sharply; 
and  feeling  sorry  that  he  had  got  the  boy  into  a  scrape  he 
said  kindly: 

"You  remember  that  gentleman  who  came  in  before  I 
did ;  was  he  Mr.  Callender  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  Tom  quickly.  "  I' ve  seen  Mr.  Cal- 
lender often;  I'd  know  him." 

"Well,  who  was  it?"  asked  Mr.  Davenant  sharply. 

"He  didn't  give  his  name,  sir,"  said  the  boy,  "but  he 
— he  came  in  again  a  bit  after  you  did,  didn't  he  ?" 

"Oh,  it  was  Mr.  Appleby,  was  it?     He  did  not  tell  me 


MORTIMER'S  NOTE  TO  MARK  135 

that  he  had  been  here  twice.  Well,  it  would  have  been 
unlucky  if  I  had  missed  him,"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  his 
usual  serenity  returning  as  he  recalled  the  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars.  "Now,  Winstead,  I  want  you  to  take 
Mr.  Palmer  this  package.  There  is  seven  hundred  dollars 
in  it  and  you  tell  him — no,  wait.  I"  11  write  all  that  and 
you  get  your  work  ahead  so  that  you  can  take  the  one  o'  clock 
train.  See  here,  give  this  to  Tom  to  deliver  and  tell  him 
to  do  no  loitering  on  the  way. ' ' 

He  had  walked  back  to  his  desk  and  now  he  handed 
Mortimer  a  letter  and  seated  himself  to  write  to  Mr.  Palmer. 
Mortimer  sent  off  Tom  with  a  friendly  warning,  and  returned 
to  his  own  desk,  unceremoniously  displacing  Jack,  who  then 
amused  himself  by  trying  to  look  out  of  the  window,  which 
was  covered  with  a  pattern  in  ground  glass.  For  a  time 
nothing  was  heard  but  the  monotonous  scratching  of  pens. 
Jack  was  beginning  to  get  very  tired  when  at  last  Mr.  Dave- 
nant came  out  with  his  hat  and  coat  on. 

"I  am  going  to  get  a  bite  of  lunch,"  he  said;  "for  I 
shall  not  leave  the  office  while  you  are  gone,  Winstead.  If 
Mr.  Callender  comes  in,  just  tell  him  that  I  will  return  in 
a  moment"  He  locked  the  door  of  the  inner  office  as  he 
spoke  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket  Then  as  he  passed 
Jack  he  drew  out  a  bright  new  quarter  and  gave  it  to  him, 
saying:  "You  are  a  brisk  messenger,  Jack;  I  would  like 
to  get  hold  of  you  every  time  I  want  a  message  given 
promptly."  Then  he  went  out 

Mortimer  glanced  up  from  his  writing  for  a  moment  and 
noticed  that  Mr.  Davenant  had  not  closed  the  .wooden 
slide  in  the  wall.  Through  the  aperture  he  could  see  the 
envelope  containing  the  money,  lying,  apparently  sealed 
and  directed,  on  the  desk,  and  he  also  noticed  that  the 
safe  was  closed.  Then  he  turned  to  Jack  and  asked : 


136  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Did  you  leave  my  note?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  boy.  "I  saw  Mr.  Mark  Willoughby 
himself  and  gave  it  to  him.  I  was  brisk  too,  for " 

"See  here,"  said  Mortimer  interrupting  him,  "I  don't 
think  that  I  can  attend  to  your  coat  to-day;  you  must  just 
go  to  Miss  Halsey's  and  find  out  if  Bertha  can' t  go  with 
you.  But  wait;  hand  over  my  keys  first." 

"Here  they  are,"  said  Jack.  "You  shoved  me  off  so 
fast  I  forgot  to  hand  them  to  you ;  and  there  were  a  couple 
of  pennies  too,"  he  added,  feeling  in  his  pocket  after  he 
had  given  Mortimer  the  keys. 

"Never  mind  the  pennies;  you  can  keep  them,"  said 
his  brother.  "  Now  be  off,  for  I'm  very  busy." 

Jack  still  lingered,  looking  dissatisfied. 

"I  don't  want  to  go  with  a  girl  to  buy  a  coat,"  he 

blurted  out  "I  wouldn't  mind  mother,  but  Bertha " 

he  made  such  a  wry  face  that  Mortimer  had  to  laugh. 

"Well,  I'll  see  what  I  can  do.  Just  run  across  to  that 
place  at  the  corner  and  get  some  sandwiches — I  always  get 
my  lunch  there — and  I'll  come  as  soon  as  Mr.  Davenant 
returns. ' ' 

Jack  went,  nothing  loth,  for  he  had  been  thinking  about 
something  to  eat  while  he  was  idly  peering  out  of  the 
window.  Mortimer  worked  away  busily,  and  by  the  time 
Mr.  Davenant  came  back  was  ready  to  receive  the  pack- 
age and  letter  and  then  hurried  across  to  the  restaurant 
where  Jack  was  waiting  for  him.  The  boy  had  finished  his 
sandwiches  and  Mortimer  found  that  by  letting  his  own 
lunch  go,  he  would  have  just  time  to  attend  to  the  matter 
of  the  coat  before  the  departure  of  the  one  o'clock  train. 
The  two  brothers  set  off  at  a  smart  pace  for  the  tailor's, 
where  they  quickly  dispatched  their  business  just  in  time 
to  take  the  train  for  Briarley. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BERTHA   AS   ADVISER 

MYRTLE' S  accident  had  not  been  entirely  without  ill 
consequences  to  herself.  The  shock  and  the  fright 
had  made  her  very  nervous,  and  a  cold  that  she  had  taken 
from  her  walk  in  the  keen  wind  added  to  her  feverish  ex- 
citement and  served  to  alarm  Mrs.  Davenant  very  thor- 
oughly. In  spite  of  assurances  from  the  old  family  doctor 
that  the  child  would  be  all  right  in  a  day  or  two,  she  stopped 
all  Myrtle's  lessons  and  devoted  her  own  time  to  nursing 
her.  Myrtle  found  this  very  delightful  and  she  gave  her 
mother  many  glowing  descriptions  of  the  kind  old  gentleman 
who  had  lifted  her  out  of  the  way  of  the  carriage  wheels. 
Bertha,  meanwhile,  did  not  see  her  little  pupil  for  several 
days,  and  Miss  Clive  took  the  opportunity  to  urge  her  to 
use  the  free  days  to  go  out  to  Briarley.  Bertha  did  not  re- 
fuse outright,  but  she  always  spoke  of  "to-morrow."  One 
evening  she  had  to  play  at  a  birthday  party  given  for  one  of 
her  little  pupils,  and  when  that  was  over  she  had  an  en- 
gagement with  Kate  Willoughby.  Mortimer  was  not  wrong 
when  he  thought  that  Bertha  had  something  on  her  mind. 
She  had  noticed  lately  that  Kate  seemed  worried  and  her 
usual  good  spirits  seemed  rather  strained.  Bertha  was  very 
hopeful  that  Kate  would  make  a  confidante  of  her.  While 
she  did  not  mean  actually  to  disobey  her  mother,  Bertha 
was  beginning  to  feel,  as  young  people  are  very  apt  to  feel 
when  they  first  leave  the  close  shelter  of  home,  that  she 
could  see  a  little  farther  and  judge  a  little  better  than  her 

137 


138  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

mother  could.  She  soon  discovered  that  the  Davenants 
and  the  Willoughbys  were  looked  upon  by  the  best  people 
in  Harriton  as  very  desirable  acquaintances,  and  that  there 
were  girls  who  envied  her  because  of  Kate' s  friendship  and 
Mrs.  Davenant'  s  kindly  interest  Now  that  she  was  cut  off 
for  a  few  days  from  her  daily  intercourse  with  the  Dave- 
nants, she  was  the  more  averse  to  doing  anything  to  check 
the  growing  intimacy  between  Kate  and  herself.  Miss  Clive 
expostulated  gently  : 

"My  dear,  you  should  not  postpone  your  visit  home; 
and  really  I  think  it  would  pain  your  mother  very  much  if 
she  knew  that  you  were  delaying  your  visit  to  her  in  order 
to  spend  the  time  with  Kate  Willoughby.  She  never  seemed 
to  desire  much  intimacy  between  you. ' ' 

"Oh,  auntie  dear,  please  don't  put  it  in  that  unpleasant 
way,"  said  Bertha  with  a  coaxing  tone  and  at  the  same  time 
a  hurt  expression  on  her  pretty  face.  "There  is  no  com- 
parison between  dear  mamma  and  Kate;  but  I  do  think  that 
Kate  needs  me  just  now.  She  was  at  Mrs.  Harley's  yes- 
terday, for  she  had  promised  to  sing  for  the  children,  and 
indeed  she  was  the  life  of  Edith' s  birthday  party ;  but  I 
know  her  well  enough  to  see  under  all  her  gayety  when  she 
is  anxious  and  worried.  She  whispered  to  me  that  she  was 
in  trouble  and  she  wanted  to  know  if  I  could  not  come  to 
see  her  to-day. ' ' 

Miss  Clive  shook  her  head.  She  had  no  great  faith  in 
Bertha' s  skill  as  an  adviser,  but  the  girl  continued : 

' '  You  know  that  Kate  has  been  very  kind  in  helping  me 
to  get  pupils,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  have  her  think  that  I 
was  only  ready  to  make  use  of  her  for  my  own  advantage 
and  could  not  spare  time  to  give  her  a  little  sympathy  if  she 
is  in  trouble." 

"What  is  this  trouble  ?"   asked  Miss  Clive. 


BERTHA    AS   ADVISER  139 

"  I  do  not  know, ' '  said  Bertha.  ' '  She  has  not  told  me 
yet" 

In  her  own  mind  the  young  girl  was  weaving  a  little 
romance  over  her  friend.  She  had  noticed  Mr.  Guy  Ather- 
ton  in  attendance  on  Kate  rather  frequently  of  late,  and  she 
thought  there  might  be  some  difficulty  from  a  stern  papa 
stepping  in  between  his  daughter  and  heiress  and  a  young 
lawyer  who,  though  clever  and  handsome,  was  not  as  yet  a 
match  for  her  in  point  of  fortune.  But  all  this  was  pure 
surmise,  and  Bertha  did  not  care  to  confide  the  fancies  to  her 
aunt 

"  Kate  has  several  times  told  me,"  she  remarked,  "  that 
she  was  greatly  pleased  by  the  friendship  her  brother  has 
for  Mortimer.  She  says  Mortimer  is  so  good  and  steady 
and  so  unlike  many  of  the  young  men  her  brother  is  thrown 
in  company  with,  that  she  always  feels  comfortable  and 
easy  when  she  knows  that  he  is  with  Mortimer.  Don't  you 
think,  auntie,  that  mamma  would  be  pleased  with  that  ? 
She  is  always  anxious  that  we  should  be  helpful  to  our 
friends." 

"That  is  true,  dear  child,"  said  her  aunt  kindly;  "but 
^in  order  to  give  real  assistance  to  others  we  must  be  careful 
to  get  all  the  help  that  we  need  ourselves.  Are  you  taking 
care  that  Bertha  keeps  in  close  enough  connection  with  her 
Lord,  to  be  ready  to  point  others  to  him  ?  for  that,  as  I  have 
always  found,  is  the  only  true  way  out  of  difficulties  and 
troubles. ' ' 

Bertha  flushed  deeply  and  hesitated,  and  in  that  moment 
Miss  Halsey  entered  the  room  and  their  conversation  was 
interrupted. 

Her  aunt's  speeches,  as  Bertha  called  them,  had  the 
power  to  disconcert  her,  but  they  had  not  the  power  to  shake 
her  confidence  in  Bertha  Winstead,  and  as  she  dressed  and 


I4O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

hurried  away  to  Mr.  Willoughby'  s  she  quickly  regained  her 
composure.  The  eager  and  affectionate  greeting  that  she 
received  from  Kate  completely  established  her  faith  in  her 
own  kindness  and  wisdom. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  !"  exclaimed  Kate,  seizing  her 
hands  and  drawing  her  down  beside  her  on  a  low  divan. 
' '  I  have  been  dreadfully  worried,  and  I  had  nobody  to  con- 
sult or  to  talk  with,  for  Mrs.  Hughes  is  not  the  one  in  whom 
I  can  confide  when  it  comes  to  family  matters.  But  I  knew 
that  I  could  trust  you. ' ' 

"Certainly,  dear,"  said  Bertha  gently.  "I  shall  be  glad 
to  help  you  if  I  can." 

While  they  were  talking  Kate  had  carefully  closed  the 
door,  so  that  they  were  safe  from  intrusion,  and  now  she  re- 
turned to  her  place  beside  Bertha  and  began  feverishly. 

"It  is  the  old  story  that  you  have  heard  me  harp  upon  be- 
fore. Yes,  it  is  about  Mark,  as  no  doubt  you  have  guessed." 

Bertha  had  not  guessed  anything  of  the  sort.  Her  little 
romance  crumbled  away  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  she 
felt  rather  disappointed,  but  she  took  good  care  to  show  no 
signs  of  this  and  hastened  to  reply : 

"He  is  so  fond  of  you  and  so  kind-hearted  that  I  am 
sure  he  would  not  do  anything  to  vex  you." 

"Ah,  but  that  is  just  where  the  danger  comes  in,"  sighed 
Kate.  "  He  is  kind  and  bright  and  attractive,  and  with  it 
all  he  has  nobody  to  take  any  special  interest  in  him.  You, 
who  have  your  mother  to  go  to,  can' t  understand  quite  how 
forlorn  we  are;  and  really,  I  can  hardly  blame  him  if  he  does 
get  acquainted  with  people  whom  papa  does  not  like.  But 
of  course  a  young  man  falls  in  with  many  kinds  of  people. 
About  a  year  ago  he  got  acquainted  with  a  young  man  who 
was  not  very  steady.  He  began  to  borrow  of  Mark  and 
finally  papa  found  it  out  and  forbade  Mark  to  bring  him  to 


BERTHA    AS    ADVISER  14! 

the  house  any  more.  The  young  man  was  not  really  bad,  I 
believe,  and  he  was  lively  and  amusing,  and  Mark  thought 
that  papa  was  too  harsh.  In  fact  it  made  unpleasant  feel- 
ings between  papa  and  Mark  which  I  could  do  nothing  to 
prevent ' ' 

Bertha  recalled  with  a  sudden  flash  that  Mrs.  Palmer  had 
spoken  to  her  mother  of  a  young  man  who  was  trying  to 
win  Kate  and  her  fortune,  and  she  understood  without  any 
further  explanations. 

' '  Papa  was  irritated, ' '  went  on  Kate,  ' '  and  he  was  im- 
patient with  Mark,  and  then  Mark  got  in  the  way  of  going 
out  to  see  his  friends  instead  of  bringing  them  to  the  house. 
That  is  so  bad,"  she  said,  with  a  sadly  wise  shake  of  her 
pretty  head ;  "for  then  you  have  absolutely  no  knowledge 
of  what  is  going  on.  I  know  that  Mark  got  into  the  way  of 
spending  a  good  deal  more  than  his  salary  and  his  allow- 
ance. I  was  terribly  vexed  when  I  found  that  he  had 
borrowed  of  your  brother. ' ' 

' '  Of  Mortimer  ? ' '  exclaimed  Bertha. 

"Yes,  I  supposed  that  you  knew  of  it" 

"No,  indeed,  I  did  not,"  replied  Bertha  in  a  piqued 
tone. 

"Oh,  well,  very  likely  he  had  no  time  to  tell  you,"  said 
Kate  hastily;  "for  I  discovered  what  he  had  done  and  as  I 
happened  to  have  the  sum,  I  made  him  repay  it  the  next 
day.  Papa  never  knew  of  it,  and  perhaps  your  brother 
forgot  all  about  it  Well,  now  there  is  some  other  trouble, 
I  am  sure,  though  I  cannot  make  out  exactly  what  is  the 
matter.  A  man  has  been  here  a  few  times  inquiring  for 
Mark,  and  I  do  dislike  his  looks  most  heartily.  If  Mark  is 
mixed  up  in  any  transactions  with  him  I  am  sure  that  it  will 
make  papa  terribly  angry;  he  does  hate  anything  under- 
handed." 


142  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Have  you  asked  your  brother  about  this  man?"  in- 
quired Bertha. 

"Yes,"  replied  Kate  despondently;  "but  he  always  puts 
me  off.  And  now,"  she  went  on  hurriedly,  "there  is  an- 
other thing  to  worry  me.  Last  summer  we  met  a  family  at 
the  seashore;  they  were  very  rich,  but  that  was  all  there  was 
to  say  about  them  except  that  the  daughter  was  a  pretty  girl. 
There  is  no  denying  that  she  was  very  pretty  and  dressed 
very  handsomely;  but,  my  dear,  the  style!  She  was  posi- 
tively vulgar;  loud  talk,  loud  laughing,  silly  jokes,  and  the 
most  barefaced  manner  of  positively  obliging  young  men  to 
pay  attention  to  her.  Of  course  with  her  good  looks  and  her 
money — for  she  was  the  only  child — young  men  were  not 
slow  to  run  after  her;  but  she  did  not  discriminate  a  bit.  The 
silliest  young  nobody  would  do  if  she  wanted  to  be  amused. 
Now  mind,  I  don' t  mean  that  there  was  really  any  harm  in 
the  girl;  but  you  may  imagine  how  I  felt  to  see  Mark 
dragged  off  to  make  himself  agreeable  to  her.  I  was  never 
so  anxious  to  get  away  from  a  place  in  all  my  life." 

Bertha  became  more  interested  now,  and  laying  her  hand 
affectionately  on  Kate's  she  said: 

"That  must  have  been  dreadfully  worrying  while  you 
were  there;  but  do  the  people  live  in  Harriton  ?" 

"No,"  replied  Kate;  "and  as  soon  as  we  came  away  I 
thought  no  more  about  them ;  but  I  have  just  heard  that 
they  are  in  town  now,  and  I  am  very  much  afraid  that  the 
girl  will  make  an  attempt  to  renew  the  acquaintance.  I  can 
get  rid  of  her  easily  enough,  but  I  am  afraid  that  Mark  may 
be  drawn  into  going  about  with  her,  and  if  she  carries  on  as 
she  did  at  the  seashore,  people  will  be  sure  to  talk." 

"I  should  not  think  that  she  would  be  the  kind  of  girl 
to  attract  your  brother,"  said  Bertha  a  little  coldly. 

"Oh,  no,  she  is  not  in  the  least  attractive,"  said  Kate 


BERTHA    AS    ADVISER  143 

eagerly.  "But  a  young  man  cannot  be  rude,  you  know  ; 
and  I  thought  that  if  I  could  get  up  something  to  interest 
Mark  particularly  at  home,  so  that  he  would  not  be  out  so 
many  evenings,  it  would  keep  him  out  of  her  way." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  said  Bertha  musingly.  "What 
was  your  idea  ? ' ' 

"I  thought  of  some  musical  evenings.  You  know  how 
fond  Mark  is  of  music,"  said  Kate  ;  "and  if  I  can  get  the 
people  I  want  to  help  me,  I  am  sure  that  it  would  be  a  suc- 
cess. I  thought  of  you  first  of  all,  and  then  I  wanted  you 
to  consult  with  and  advise  me." 

"  It  is  a  capital  idea,"  exclaimed  Bertha  warmly.  "Of 
course  we  could  make  it  a  succcess.  We  could  have  some 
lovely  music  ;  and  then  what  fine  training  it  would  be  too." 

"  I  thought  Herr  Lubeck  would  help  ;  and  then  there  is 
Mr.  Scott,  the  first  violin  of  the  Concordia  Club,"  said  Kate 
counting  on  her  fingers. 

"Yes,  indeed  ;  and  we  could  get  Grace  Marsden  and 
Jennie  Hatfield  and  others  of  Herr  Lubeck' s  best  pupils," 
interrupted  Bertha.  "  It  will  be  delightful.  I  am  so  glad 
that  you  thought  of  it" 

"Ah,  if  only  Mark  will  think  the  same,"  said  Kate,  whose 
love  of  music  was  evidently  overshadowed  now  by  her  love 
and  anxiety  for  her  brother.  "This  is  the  very  thing  that 
I  cannot  do  without  your  help.  You  see  I  have  talked  so 
much  to  him  about  staying  at  home  more  in  the  evenings, 
that  I  am  afraid  he  will  only  think  of  it  as  a  plan  to  catch 
him  if  I  should  suggest  this  ;  but  if  you  were  to  suggest  it 
to  him  he  would  be  all  right  It  would  be  quite  natural 
that  I  should  want  to  have  the  evenings  here,  for  Miss 
Halsey's  parlor  is  not  big  enough."  She  looked  at  Bertha 
anxiously  as  she  spoke,  but  Bertha  answered  readily  : 

"That  is  easy  enough,  if  I  happen  to  meet  your  brother. " 


144  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

' '  He  may  have  come  in  now, ' '  exclaimed  Kate,  eager  to 
clinch  the  matter.  "Come  down  with  me  to  the  parlor.  I 
want  to  show  you  some  new  music  that  I  got  to-day  and  he 
may  be  there." 

The  parlor  was  empty  as  the  two  girls  entered  it,  but 
Kate's  fine  piano  stood  open,  and  it  was  strewed  with  new 
songs  which  soon  absorbed  Bertha' s  attention. 

"Oh,  Kate,  what  a  lovely  home  you  have!"  she  ex- 
claimed with  a  sigh  of  envy  as  she  let  her  eyes  wander  over 
the  handsomely  furnished  room. 

At  one  end  the  glass  doors  of  a  small  conservatory 
revealed  a  glimpse  of  tropical  greenery  through  which 
gleamed  the  brilliant  hues  of  flowers  that  made  one  forget 
the  icy,  wind-swept  streets  outside  and  fancy  one' s  self  in  the 
depth  of  summer.  There  were  fine  paintings  on  the  walls, 
numerous  dainty  little  artistic  knick-knacks  covered  the 
tables  and  mantel  shelves,  while  just  behind  the  grand 
piano  beside  which  they  were  standing,  rich  portieres  shut 
off  another  room  that  Bertha  knew  was  stored  with  a  fine 
collection  of  books. 

"If  I  had  a  home  like  this  I  should  never  want  to  leave 
it,"  she  asserted. 

"You  have  what  is  far  better,"  exclaimed  Kate.  "  You 
have  no  idea  how  I  envy  you  your  home  with  your  sweet, 
refined  mother  and  your  sisters  and  brothers.  What  good 
can  books  and  pictures  do  when  one  has  to  be  thrown  in 
with  coarse  and  vulgar  or  inane  people  ?  But  you  know 
nothing  about  that  worry." 

"Indeed,  I  do  know  more  about  it  than  you  think,"  said 
Bertha  resentfully.  "It  was  just  to  avoid  people  of  that 
class  that  I  came  to  Harriton." 

Kate,  who  had  spoken  rather  bitterly,  now  opened  her 
eyes  in  sheer  surprise.  . 


BERTHA    AS    ADVISER  145 

' '  I  always  thought  your  Briarley  friends  were  unusually 
pleasant  and  nice,"  she  said  ;  "and  Uncle  Palmer  always 
quotes  your  mother  as  an  instance  of  what  a  refined  gentle- 
woman can  do  in  training  up  her  children  like  herself." 

Bertha  saw  the  blunder  that  she  had  made  in  betraying 
feelings  to  which  Kate  had  no  clue,  and  she  was  obliged 
now  to  make  some  sort  of  explanation. 

"  I  mean,"  she  said  quickly,  "that  mamma  has  visitors 
at  home  that  I  don' t  care  about  Some  Western  people,  a 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant." 

' '  Oh,  I  remember, ' '  said  Kate,  ' '  that  I  heard  they  were 
expected.  I  had  no  idea  that  you  had  found  them  so  disa- 
greeable and  I  did  not  know  that  they  were  still  there." 

"Yes,  they  are  still  there, "  replied  Bertha  pettishly.  "I 
came  away  because  I  knew  very  well  what  they  would  be 
like  ;  but  I  suppose  that  I  shall  have  to  meet  them  now, 
for  they  seem  to  have  taken  up  their  abode  there.  If  I 
want  to  see  mamma  I  must  put  up  with  them.  If  they  had 
any  refinement  of  feeling  they  would  have  gone  before 
this." 

At  that  moment  the  entrance  of  a  servant  interrupted  any 
reply  that  Kate  might  have  made. 

"Mr.  Hamilton,  miss,  to  see  Mr.  Mark." 

"Not  at  home,"  said  Kate  hastily.  "  You  know  that, 
Jane." 

' '  Yes,  miss,  but  the  gentleman  said  he  came  by  appoint- 
ment, so  I  showed  him  into  the  library, ' '  replied  the  maid. 

Kate  turned  with  a  gesture  of  impatience,  and  drawing 
aside  the  portiere  she  entered  the  dimly  lighted  library. 
Bertha  heard  her  clear  voice  saying  coldly  : 

"  My  brother  is  not  at  home  and  I  do  not  think  that  he 
will  be  in  this  evening.  Will  you  leave  any  message  ?" 

Bertha  could  not  catch  the  low  reply,  but  evidently  the 
K 


146  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

gentleman  was  leaving  and  Jane  vanished  rapidly  to  show 
him  out 

" That  detestable  man!"  exclaimed  Kate,  as  she  re-en- 
tered the  parlor.  ' '  There  he  sat  reading  a  paper  as  coolly 
as  though  the  house  belonged  to  him.  I  dislike  him  so  in- 
tensely and  I  do  wish  Mark  had  never  set  eyes  on  him." 

"Has  he  been  in  there  all  the  time  that  we  were  talking 
here  ? ' '  asked  Bertha. 

"I  hope  not,"  exclaimed  Kate,  but  she  rang  the  bell  to 
make  inquiries. 

Jane  reappeared,  and  on  being  questioned  replied  that 
she  had  shown  the  gentleman  into  the  library  and  had  gone 
upstairs  in  search  of  Miss  Willoughby,  as  she  knew  that 
Miss  Winstead  had  been  shown  up  to  the  sitting  room. 

"As  I  didn't  find  you  there,  miss,  I  just  knocked  at 
your  bedroom  door  and  then  came  downstairs  to  the  par- 
lor," said  the  girl. 

"That  will  do,"  said  Kate  who,  though  she  was  annoyed, 
had  too  thoroughly  the  instincts  of  a  lady  to  relieve  her 
feelings  by  scolding  a  servant  Then  as  Jane  left  the  room 
she  remarked  :  "  I  do  not  think  that  we  mentioned  Mark's 
name  after  we  came  into  this  room,  so  the  man  could  not 
have  overheard  anything.  If  he  did,  I  am  sure  that  he 
would  try  to  make  mischief." 

' '  Are  you  not  growing  terribly  suspicious,  Kate  ?  I  can 
assure  you  that  we  said  nothing  about  that  matter  after  we 
came  downstairs  ;  so  put  your  mind  at  ease  on  that  point" 

' '  Perhaps  I  am  foolish, ' '  owned  Kate  wearily  ;  ' '  but 
indeed  I  have  such  a  repugnance  to  that  man  that  I  cannot 
bear  the  sight  of  him." 

"Then  don't  think  of  him  any  more,"  replied  Bertha 
promptly.  "Let  us  return  to  our  plans  and  our  music." 

And  thus  she  dismissed  the  subject 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MISSING   MONEY 

WHILE  Kate  and  Bertha  were  laying  their  plans, 
Mortimer  had  returned  from  his  hasty  trip  to 
Briarley.  He  did  his  errand  at  Mr.  Palmer's,  and  he 
looked  in  for  a  few  moments  at  the  farmhouse,  but  his 
appointment  with  Mark  weighed  on  his  mind,  and  as  he 
had  fixed  no  hour  he  was  in  haste  to  get  back.  The  first 
person  he  met  as  he  came  out  of  the  station  at  Harriton  was 
Mark  himself,  and  very  warm  were  the  young  man's  ex- 
pressions of  gratitude  to  Mortimer  as  they  walked  together 
toward  Miss  Halsey's. 

"I  can  let  you  have  the  seventy-five,"  said  Mortimer; 
"but  I  can't  do  any  more  than  that" 

"I  hate  to  let  you  do  that  much,"  said  Mark,  "and  I 
would  not  take  a  cent  of  it  if  I  were  not  so  sure  that  I  could 
repay  you  before  you  could  possibly  need  it  And  really, 
old  fellow,  it  is  an  immense  relief  to  my  mind. ' ' 

"I  am  glad  of  that,"  said  Mortimer;  "and  I  wish  I 
could  say  that  you  could  take  your  own  time  to  repay  me, 
but  the  fact  is  that  I  shall  need  the  money." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  understand  that,  and  of  course  I  shall  get 
it  from  my  father  and  pay  it  back  in  a  few  days,"  said 
Mark  hurriedly.  "And  see  here,  wouldn't  it  suit  just  as 
well  if  I  stopped  in  here  and  waited  for  you  ?  You  know  if 
I  go  to  your  boarding  house  we  may  meet  your  sister  or 
your  aunt,  and  they  may  begin  to  ask  questions." 

"Just  as  you  like,"  replied  Mortimer,  glancing  up  at  the 

'47 


148  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

hotel  in  front  of  which  Mark  had  paused.  "I'll  be  back 
here  in  a  short  time, ' '  and  he  went  on  while  Mark  turned 
into  the  hotel. 

Mortimer  had  the  fifty-dollar  note  that  he  had  received 
from  Mr.  Davenant  still  in  his  pocket,  but  the  other  twenty- 
five  was  in  his  trunk  ;  so  he  hurried  to  Miss  Halsey's.  He 
had  his  latch-key,  and  saw  no  one  as  he  let  himself  in. 

' '  I  wish  Mark  had  not  been  so  fussy  about  meeting  any 
one,"  he  thought  as  he  went  back  to  the  hotel.  He  was 
beginning  to  feel  tired  and  hungry  after  all  his  running 
about,  but  he  did  not  care  to  complain  and  kept  a  cheerful 
face  as  he  paid  over  the  money. 

Mark  was  apparently  in  a  great  hurry. 

' '  I  won' t  stop  to  give  you  my  note  for  this,  for  in  fact  I 
expect  to  bring  you  back  the  money  in  a  day  or  two.  But 
all  the  same  I'  11  write  out  the  note  for  you  to-morrow.  I 
have  hardly  a  minute  to  spare  just  now,  for  I  think  I  have  a 
chance  of  another  and  a  better  place  than  Harvey  &  Blake's, 
if  I  don' t  let  it  slip  through  my  fingers. ' '  There  was  a 
nervousness  in  his  manner  and  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes 
that  Mortimer  was  at  a  loss  to  understand.  ' '  I  have  no 
time  to  explain  now,  but  you  will  see  what  I  mean  pretty 
soon.  And  now  I'  m  off.  You  have  done  me  a  better  turn 
than  you  think,  and  I'll  never  forget  it."  With  these  rather 
enigmatical  words  Mark  shook  hands  warmly  and  left 
Mortimer  free  to  return  home. 

The  consciousness  of  having  done  a  kind  action  was  not 
so  cheering  as  Mortimer  had  expected  that  it  would  be  ;  and 
he  went  wearily  up  the  steps  of  his  boarding  house  with  a 
depressed  air.  It  was  the  second  time  that  he  had  returned 
with  empty  pockets  on  pay  day,  and  he  could  not  help 
wondering  whether  he  had  been  wise.  As  he  entered  the 
house  he  turned  into  the  parlor  hoping  to  find  Bertha 


MISSING    MONEY  149 

there  ;  but  to  his  surprise  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  Mr.  Davenant. 

He  wondered  whether  anything  had  gone  wrong  at  the 
office  after  he  had  left ;  and  then  the  thought  flashed  upon 
him  that  Mr.  Davenant  had  been  expecting  him  to  return 
to  the  office  again  to  report ;  although  as  he  said  nothing 
about  it,  Mortimer  had  supposed  that  it  was  not  necessary. 

"Mr.  Palmer  had  no  message,  sir,"  he  said.  "Were 
you  expecting  me  back  this  evening  ?  Mr.  Palmer  spoke 
as  though  he  expected  me  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  day  at 
my  mother' s  ;  so  I  supposed  that  I  was  not  needed. ' ' 

"But  you  did  not  stay  at  your  mother's.  In  fact,  you 
came  right  back  to  town  by  the  next  train,"  said  Mr. 
Davenant  dryly. 

Mortimer  flushed,  feeling  something  peculiar  in  the  keen 
gaze  that  was  bent  on  him,  but  answered  frankly,  "Yes, 
sir,  I  did." 

' '  Did  you  go  straight  out  to  Briarley  ? ' '  asked  Mr. 
Davenant. 

"Yes,  sir.  Except,"  he  added,  hastily  correcting  him- 
self, "that  I  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  on  the  way  to  the 
station  to  get  Jack  a  coat" 

' '  Ah  ! ' '  exclaimed  Mr.  Davenant  in  a  relieved  tone  ; 
"then  maybe  that  explains  the  trouble.  The  fact  is,"  he 
continued  hastily,  "that  the  money  you  took  out  to  Mr. 
Palmer  has  been  tampered  with." 

"Tampered  with  !  That  is  impossible.  Why,  I  had  it 
in  my  inside  pocket  from  the  time  you  handed  me  the 
package  till  I  gave  it  into  Mr.  Palmer's  hands,"  exclaimed 
Mortimer. 

"Then  how  comes  it  that  some  of  the  money  was  missing 
when  Mr.  Palmer  received  it?"  said  Mr.  Davenant 
"Come,  come,  Winstead,  it  is  the  first  time  that  there  has 


I$O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

been  the  slightest  trouble  from  carelessness  on  your  part  ; 
and  I  for  one  can  say  that  I  have  not  the  least  desire  to  be 
hard  upon  you.  But  of  course  we  want  to  find  the  missing 
money,  and  only  you  can  tell  us  where  it  is  likely  to  have 
been  lost  or_abstracted." 

"Missing  money  !"  said  Mortimer,  who  had  been  grow- 
ing paler  as  Mr.  Davenant  proceeded.  "Indeed,  sir,  it  is 
impossible  that  the  money  can  be  missing.  I  placed  the 
package  just  as  you  gave  it  to  me,  in  Mr.  Palmer's  own 
hands.  Mr.  Willoughby  was  with  him  at  the  time,  and  can 
tell  you  that  I  am  speaking  the  truth.  Mr.  Palmer  read 
your  note  and  then  told  me  that  I  could  go  down  to  see  my 
mother.  I  asked  if  I  should  wait  for  any  message  to  you 
and  he  said,  no.  I  thought  he  was  in  a  hurry  for  me  to  go, 
for  Mr.  Willoughby  seemed  to  be  anxious  to  get  away.  I 
heard  Mr.  Palmer  say  to  him  as  I  left  the  room  :  '  It  is  well 
you  missed  that  train  ;  this  is  good  news  worth  waiting  for, 
and  you  can  just  as  well  take  a  later  train.'  ' 

' '  Well,  Mr.  Palmer  got  the  package  as  you  say,  but  part 
of  the  money  was  gone, "  replied  Mr.  Davenant.  "Whom 
did  you  talk  with  at  the  place  where  you  got  your  lunch  ? ' ' 

"  Nobody.  I  did  not  stop  for  any  lunch.  I  only  stopped 
to  get  Jack,  who  was  waiting  for  me,  and  then  we  went  to 
the  store  where  we  got  his  coat  But  the  place  was  not 
crowded  and  nobody  even  jostled  against  me,  for  when  I 
had  seven  hundred  dollars  about  me  I  took  more  notice 
than  I  would  usually,"  said  Mortimer.  "I  am  sure  that  it 
was  impossible  for  any  one  to  rob  me." 

"Seven  hundred  and  fifty,"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  glancing 
at  him  keenly.  "I  replaced  the  fifty  that  I  took  out  to  pay 
you. ' ' 

As  he  began  Mortimer  was  a  little  taken  aback,  thinking 
that  Mr.  Davenant  referred  to  the  money  of  his  own  that  he 


MISSING    MONEY  I$I 

had  had  in  his  pocket,  but  at  his  last  words  he  replied 
frankly  : 

' '  I  don' t  know  anything  about  that,  sir  ;  you  mentioned 
seven  hundred  to  me,  and  I  supposed  that  was  the  amount 
How  much  is  missing?" 

1 '  Fifty-five  dollars, ' '  replied  Mr.  DavenanL  ' '  But  it  is 
not  the  question  whether  it  is  much  or  little,  but  where  it 
went  to,"  he  finished  testily.  "See  here,  you  come  out 
with  me  to  Mr.  Palmer's  and  we  will  have  the  matter 
cleared  up." 

Mr.  Davenant  felt  irritated  that  this  should  have  occurred 
while  he  was  in  charge.  If  it  had  happened  to  Mr.  Palmer 
he  would  probably  have  said  that  fifty-five  dollars  was  not 
worth  bothering  about ;  but  now  he  was  impatient  to  have 
the  matter  explained  without  any  blame  to  himself.  He 
caught  up  his  hat  and  Mortimer  had  no  choice  but  to  fol- 
low him  ;  and  thus  he  found  himself  hungry,  tired,  and 
utterly  bewildered,  again  rushing  off  to  the  station  to  catch 
the  train  for  Briarley.  He  suggested  to  Mr.  Davenant  that 
Mr.  Palmer  might  have  made  a  mistake  in  counting,  but 
Mr.  Davenant  replied  shortly  : 

"Mr.  Willoughby  counted  the  money  with  Mr.  Palmer, 
and  he  brought  it  in  for  me  to  count  when  he  came  to  me. 
There  were  five  one-hundred-dollar  bills,  one  fifty,  five  tens, 
and  nineteen  five-dollar  gold  pieces.  I  added  the  five  tens 
myself  in  place  of  the  note  I  gave  you." 

Mortimer  had  no  further  suggestion  to  make,  as  he  now 
had  to  fall  back  upon  the  conviction  that  Mr.  Davenant 
himself  had  counted  wrong  in  the  first  place,  and  the  trip 
to  Briarley  passed  in  uncomfortable  silence.  It  was  grow- 
ing dusk  as  they  reached  Mr.  Palmer's,  and  the  library  into 
which  they  were  shown  was  lighted  by  one  lamp  on  the 
table.  Mr.  Palmer  sat  in  an  easy-chair  with  his  lame  foot 


152  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

propped  on  a  rest,  and  the  first  object  that  caught  Mortimer's 
eye,  gleaming  brightly  under  the  full  rays  of  the  lamp  on 
the  table  at  Mr.  Palmer's  elbow,  was  a  five-dollar  gold 
piece. 

' '  Hello  !  so  you  have  found  it  after  all, ' '  exclaimed  Mr. 
Davenant,  whose  eye  also  rested  on  the  gold.  • '  Come, 
that' s  good  ;  and  where  is  the  note  ? ' ' 

' '  I  have  seen  nothing  of  the  note, ' '  replied  Mr.  Palmer, 
as  he  noticed  Mortimer  with  a  curt  nod.  ' '  I  did  not  find 
this.  Mrs.  Winstead  brought  it  to  me  a  few  minutes  ago 
and  told  me  she  found  it  in  her  son  Jack's  pocket." 

Mortimer' s  face  flushed  crimson,  and  for  the  moment  he 
felt  as  though  some  one  had  struck  him. 

' '  Why  did  my  mother  bring  it  to  you  ? "  he  asked 
almost  fiercely.  ' '  It  can' t  be  yours  if  she  found  it  in  Jack' s 
pocket ' ' 

• '  I  sent  a  messenger  down  for  you  as  soon  as  we  had 
counted  the  money  and  found  beyond  any  doubt  that  it  was 
wrong,"  said  Mr.  Palmer  ;  "but  you  had  returned  to  town 
in  such  a  hurry  that  you  were  already  gone.  Your  mother 
came  up  here  a  short  time  ago  and  told  me  that  she  had 
found  this  in  Jack's  pocket,  and  he  told  her  some  tale 
about  having  picked  it  up  on  the  floor  in  our  office  ;  so  she 
brought  it  to  me  at  once. ' ' 

"Well,  sir,  there  is  something  very  queer  about  all  this," 
replied  Mortimer.  "  But  there  is  one  thing  that  I  can  take 
my  oath  upon,  and  that  is  that  Jack  never  knowingly  put 
that  coin  in  his  pocket  if  it  is  the  one  you  lost." 

Mr.  Davenant,  who  was  beginning  to  feel  sorry  that  he 
had  brought  Mortimer  out  with  him,  now  interposed. 

"We  can't  identify  the  coin,"  he  said  kindly,  picking 
up  the  gold  piece.  "  I  think  that  Winstead  would  better  go 
down  and  get  the  right  of  the  story  from  his  brother." 


MISSING    MONEY  153 

Mr.  Palmer  agreed.  His  manner  was  dry  and  curt ;  but 
Mortimer  remembered  that  his  business  manner  to  his 
clerks  was  never  otherwise,  and  Mr.  Davenant'  s  manner  was 
kind  and  friendly  ;  but  still  Mortimer's  blood  tingled  with 
a  horrible  sense  of  suspicion  resting  on  himself  as  he  went 
down  the  hill  to  his  home. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone  Mr.  Davenant  went  over  the 
whole  business  with  his  partner,  and  assured  him  that  the 
money  had  not  been  out  of  his  sight,  and  that  no  stranger 
had  been  in  the  office  before  he  left  it  to  go  to  his  lunch. 

"Where  did  you  leave  the  money  when  you  went  out?" 
asked  Mr.  Palmer. 

1 '  On  the  desk.  But  I  locked  the  door  of  the  inner 
office,"  replied  Mr.  Davenant. 

"What  about  the  sliding  window?"  inquired  his 
partner. 

"  H'm  ;  I  never  thought  about  that  It  was  open,  but 
nobody  could  get  in  through  it,"  Mr.  Davenant  replied 
confidently. 

"A  slim  boy  might,"  remarked  his  partner.  "Where 
was  the  office  boy  ?" 

'  •  I  had  sent  him  out  on  an  errand,  and  he  had  not  re- 
turned when  I  came  back,"  replied  Mr.  Davenant.  "Only 
young  Winstead  was  in  the  outer  office." 

' '  I  have  always  found  Mortimer  perfectly  honest  and 
trustworthy,"  said  Mr.  Palmer  in  a  musing  tone.  "You 
say  that  you  left  him  alone  there  when  you  went  out" 

"No,  not  alone  ;  his  brother  Jack  was  with  him  then," 
corrected  Mr.  Davenant. 

"Oh,  yes;  but  that  don't  help  matters,"  growled  Mr. 
Palmer.  ' '  I  did  feel  sure  that  those  Winsteads  were 
honest  But,  then,  no  one  ought  to  throw  temptation 
needlessly  in  the  way  of  boys. ' ' 


154  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"It was  an  odd  amount  to  take,"  said  Mr.  Davenant, 
who  was  very  sensitive  to  any  blame  thrown  upon  himself 
and  preferred  to  ignore  his  partner' s  last  remark.  • '  One 
would  expect  a  thief  to  take  it  all." 

"Lucky  for  Willoughby  that  he  didn't,"  replied  Mr. 
Palmer  grimly.  "  He  was  in  no  sweet  mood  when  he  came 
out  here.  That  boy  of  his  has  been  getting  into  scrapes,  I 
fancy. ' ' 

"Willoughby  lets  him  run  too  much  at  his  own  will, 
and  then  suddenly  he  checks  him  up  short  That  is  no 
way  to  manage  a  young  man,"  said  Mr.  Davenant  with  the 
confidence  occasionally  assumed  by  a  man  who  has  no  sons 
when  he  sees  his  friend' s  son  getting  into  trouble. 

"Well,  well,  that's  not  our  affair  now,"  ejaculated  Mr. 
Palmer.  ' '  We  have  enough  to  do  to  manage  the  young 
man  who  is  on  our  hands." 

"  Does  the  mother  suspect  anything  wrong  ?" 

' '  Not  a  thing.  She  came  in  with  the  gold  piece  in  her 
hand  and  told  me  that  she  was  mending  Jack' s  coat  when 
she  found  in  the  pocket  a  quarter  and  what  she  took  to  be 
two  new  pennies,  but  a  second  glance  showed  her  that  one 
was  a  gold  coin.  She  went  to  Jack  to  find  out  where  he  got 
it,  and  the  boy  said  that  you  gave  him  the  quarter." 

"That's  all  right  ;  so  I  did,"  interposed  Mr.  Davenant 

"And  the  pennies  he  picked  up  from  the  floor  when 
Mortimer  dropped  his  keys  and  some  coins  as  he  was  pull- 
ing a  pencil  out  of  his  pocket  Jack  says  that  he  returned 
the  keys  but  Mortimer  told  him  to  keep  the  pennies  ;  and 
he  was  in  a  hurry  and  never  examined  them,  so  he  did  not 
know  that  he  had  a  gold  piece,"  concluded  Mr.  Palmer. 

"If  Jack  got  the  coin  from  his  brother,  what  made  his 
mother  bring  it  up  here  ?  That' s  what  I  don' t  understand, ' ' 
said  Mr.  Davenant 


MISSING    MONEY  155 

"  She  explained  all  that  She  said  that  Mortimer  had 
whisked  in  and  out  again  in  such  a  hurry  in  the  afternoon 
that  she  was  surprised,  and  she  thought  that  he  seemed 
bothered.  Then  my  messenger  came  and  that  puzzled  her, 
and  when  she  found  the  gold  piece  that  neither  of  the  boys 
seemed  to  have  known  anything  about,  she  just  jumped  at 
the  conclusion  that  we  had  missed  it  and  were  worried  about 
it,  so  she  came  right  here  to  return  it  and  explain.  I  told 
her  that  we  had  lost  such  a  coin,  but  I  could  not  say  whether 
this  was  the  one.  However,  she  insisted  on  leaving  it" 

"Did  you  say  anything  about  the  fifty  dollars?"  asked 
Mr.  Davenant 

"Not  a  word,"  replied  Mr.  Palmer  energetically.  "It 
began  to  look  queer,  I  must  confess,"  he  added,  knitting 
his  brows  gloomily.  "  But  she  is  a  good  little  woman  and 
does  her  best  to  bring  those  children  up  well,  so  I  was  not 
going  to  upset  her.  We  must  sift  the  matter  quietly.  The 
sons  of  very  good  people  do  go  wrong  sometimes  ;  but  this 
is  a  case  where  we  must  be  very  cautious.  I  should  not  mind 
the  money  ;  I  would  give  that  amount  to  be  sure  that 
Mortimer's  pocket  had  been  picked  at  that  store." 

"  Nobody  could  do  that  and  leave  the  envelope  all  sealed 
up,"  remarked  Mr.  Davenant  "Besides,  I  had  taken  out 
fifty  to  pay  Winstead,  and  I  said  at  the  time  that  I  would 
just  send  you  the  remaining  even  seven  hundred.  Afterward 
I  remembered  that  I  had  some  tens  in  my  pocket  to  settle  a 
bill  that  I  could  just  as  well  pay  by  check,  and  I  wanted  to 
send  you  the  whole  amount  so  I  laid  the  five  tens  on  the 
pile  ;  but  any  one  counting  it  over  after  hearing  what  I  had 
said  might  have  fancied  that  I  had  counted  wrong,  and  that 
the  extra  fifty  would  not  be  missed." 

"So  you  suspect  Mortimer,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Palmer 
sharply. 


156  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"No,  no  !"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  who  had  a  tendency  at 
times  to  talk  out  his  thoughts  without  calculating  the  effect 
that  his  words  were  likely  to  produce.  ' '  I  was  only  saying 
how  it  might  have  occurred  to  any  one  who  overheard  us. ' ' 

"Jack,  for  instance,  as  he  was  the  only  one  who  could 
have  overheard  you,  according  to  your  own  account, ' '  put  in 
Mr.  Palmer. 

He  was  becoming  irritated  with  his  partner.  Mr.  Dave- 
nant had  an  easy-going  dislike  to  getting  the  young  clerk 
into  trouble  or  believing  any  harm  of  him,  and  his  manner 
and  tone  were  kinder  than  Mr.  Palmer' s  ;  but  in  fact  Mr. 
Palmer,  who  lived  close  by  the  Winsteads  and  had  associ- 
ated with  Mortimer  daily  for  years,  was  much  more  keenly 
hurt  by  any  suspicion  that  the  lad  was  not  worthy  of  the 
trust  that  he  had  reposed  in  him. 

The  entrance  of  Mortimer  himself  interrupted  the  con- 
versation at  this  juncture  and  both  partners  turned  quickly 
to  hear  what  he  had  to  say. 

"I  think  that  I  can  explain  about  that  gold  piece,"  said 
the  lad  eagerly.  "Don't  you  remember,  sir,"  address- 
ing Mr.  Davenant,  "that  you  had  some  coins  in  your 
hand  when  you  dropped  your  key  ?  I  thought  that  I  heard 
two  things  fall,  but  I  could  see  only  the  key  and  I  hadn't 
time  to  search  very  thoroughly.  I  suppose  that  the  gold 
piece  really  did  fall,  and  rolled  away  to  some  corner  where 
Jack  picked  it  up  when  he  scrambled  after  my  keys  and 
penny.  That  is  the  only  explanation  that  I  can  see,  for  I 
know  that  I  had  no  gold  in  my  pocket  so  I  could  not  have 
dropped  it." 

Mr.  Palmer  looked  at  his  partner  with  evident  surprise. 

"  Had  you  the  gold  in  your  hand  when  you  came  out 
with  Mr.  Appleby?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  yes,    I  had,"   admitted  Mr.   Davenant;   "but  I 


MISSING    MONEY  I  57 

did  not  drop  any  of  it  Of  course  I  should  have  noticed 
at  once  if  one  of  the  coins  had  been  gone  when  I  went 
back  to  the  inner  office  and  laid  them  on  the  pile  of  notes. ' ' 

' '  You  were  talking  to  me  at  the  time,  sir, ' '  persisted 
Mortimer,  "and  the  loss  of  one  out  of  twenty  might  easily 
pass  unnoticed  if  you  did  not  count  them  again." 

1  •  Perhaps  you  think  that  I  dropped  the  note  too, ' '  said 
Mr.  Davenant  coldly;  and  Mortimer  perceived  that  while 
he  had  cleared  Jack  by  shifting  the  blame  to  his  employer' s 
shoulders,  he  had  decidedly  changed  the  kindly  interest  of 
Mr.  Davenant  in  himself. 

Mr.  Palmer  now  interposed  and  remarked  that  it  was  his 
dinner  hour  and  he  did  not  care  to  discuss  the  matter  any 
further  that  evening. 

"If  you  have  not  mentioned  the  missing  note  to  your 
mother  I  think  that  you  would  better  not  worry  her  about 
it  to-night,"  he  remarked  to  Mortimer. 

"I  have  told  her  already,"  replied  Mortimer.  "I  did 
not  see  any  reason  to  make  a  secret  of  it  ;  but  of  course  if 
you  wish  it,  I  will  tell  her  not  to  mention  it  to  any  one 
else."  He  spoke  almost  haughtily,  for  it  galled  him  to 
think  that  his  employers  were  trying  to  "  let  him  off  easy ' ' 
while  in  their  hearts  they  suspected  him  of  carelessness  or 
worse. 

"I  think  that  it  would  be  better  to  say  nothing  until  we 
find  out  more  about  the  affair,"  said  Mr.  Palmer. 

"Just  as  you  choose,  sir,"  said  Mortimer,  and  he  said 
good-evening  and  departed  as  the  butler  came  to  the  door 
to  announce  dinner. 

Mr.  Palmer  was  more  annoyed  than  he  cared  to  show. 
The  matter  seemed  to  be  capable  of  but  two  solutions,  one 
of  which  would  indicate  great  carelessness  on  the  part  of 
Mr.  Davenant  and  the  other  would  prove  absolute  dishon- 


158  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

esty  on  Mortimer's  part  He  knew  his  partner  too  well  to 
feel  much  doubt  about  the  truth  of  the  explanation  as  to  the 
presence  of  the  gold  piece  in  Jack's  pocket,  but  he  could 
hardly  credit  him  with  such  carelessness  as  to  miscount  or 
mislay  the  fifty  dollars. 


CHAPTER  XV 

"WE  ARE   COUSINS" 

MORTIMER  went  down  the  hill  to  the  old  farmhouse 
with  his  thoughts  in  a  whirl  of  painful  confusion. 
The  mystery  of  the  missing  money  had  annoyed  him  sim- 
ply because  he  had  been  thoroughly  imbued  with  Mr. 
Palmer's  correct  and  methodical  business  habits  ;  but  the 
consciousness  that  both  his  employers  suspected  him  and 
were  only  trying  to  keep  the  matter  quiet  in  order  to  spare 
him,  drove  him  nearly  wild  with  wounded  pride. 

"I  believe  that  Mr.  Davenant's  careless,  slipshod  way 
of  doing  business  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  trouble," 
he  muttered  to  himself  savagely  ;  ' '  but  at  least  I  have 
cleared  Jack,  and  as  for  myself — oh,  if  I  had  only  had  that 
fifty-dollar  note  that  he  paid  me  this  morning,  I  would 
have  laid  it  down  before  him  and  told  him  to  take  it  back 
and  square  up  his  accounts  at  my  cost  If  Mark  pays  me 
to-morrow  I'll  do  it  yet" 

He  tried  to  put  a  good  face  on  the  matter  when  he 
appeared  before  his  mother,  but  she  was  too  keen-sighted 
where  her  children  were  concerned,  not  to  notice  that  he 
was  worried.  He  said  that  he  must  go  back  to  town  that 
night  and  he  stayed  to  supper  only  because  it  was  already 
on  the  table  and  a  refusal  would  have  distressed  her.  Mrs. 
Brant' s  lively  chatter  at  the  table  was  a  relief  to  him  as  it 
helped  to  let  his  own  silence  pass  without  remark  ;  but  her 
shrewd,  kindly  eyes  were  taking  notice  while  her  tongue 
rattled  on  in  her  homely  fashion.  She  was  quick  and 

IS9 

* 


I6O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

observant  under  conditions  that  she  could  understand,  and 
with  the  unerring  sympathy  of  the  true  mother' s  heart  she 
divined  that  Mortimer  was  causing  his  mother  anxiety. 

Mrs.  Winstead  had  arranged  a  little  sitting  room  for  Mrs. 
Brant  by  giving  up  to  her  what  used  to  be  the  boys'  room, 
and  here  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  could  retire  whenever  the 
latter  felt  indisposed  or  when  there  was  company  in  the 
parlor  whom  they  did  not  care  to  meet  This  evening  they 
both  went  upstairs  early,  thinking  that  Mrs.  Winstead 
would  like  to  have  her  children  to  herself  when  Mortimer 
was  with  them,  and  Mr.  Brant,  who  was  suffering  from  a 
slight  cold,  went  to  bed.  Soon  Mrs.  Brant  heard  the  front 
door  close,  and  peeping  through  the  blind  saw  Mortimer' s 
figure  going  down  the  path. 

"There  is  something  wrong,"  she  thought,  "and  that 
poor  soul  will  just  lie  awake  and  worry  because  she  has 
nobody  to  talk  to.  I  wonder  whether  she  would  talk  to  me. 
I*  11  give  her  the  chance  ; ' '  and  she  slipped  quietly  over  to 
her  sitting  room. 

There  she  sat  busying  herself  with  a  bit  of  mending 
until  the  children  had  gone  upstairs  to  bed  and  she  heard 
Mrs.  Winstead  going  her  usual  nightly  rounds  to  see  that 
the  house  was  locked  up.  Then  she  set  her  door  ajar  so 
that  the  light  would  gleam  out  on  the  staircase.  Her 
friendly  ruse  succeeded,  for  Mrs.  Winstead  coming  upstairs 
stopped  at  the  half-opened  door  to  ask  if  Mrs.  Brant 
needed  anything. 

"  No,  nothing,  unless  you  feel  inclined  to  sit  down  a  bit 
and  keep  me  company  while  I  patch  this  hole,"  said  Mrs. 
Brant  briskly. 

It  flashed  upon  Mrs.  Winstead  that  there  could  not  be  a 
more  favorable  opportunity  to  explain  to  Mrs.  Brant  the 
relationship,  and  she  accepted  the  friendly  invitation. 


WE    ARE    COUSINS  l6l 

"  I  hope  that  you  have  good  news  of  your  son,"  she  said 
as  soon  as  they  were  cosily  seated  beside  the  stove. 

"Yes,  indeed;  he  is  doing  finely,"  said  his  mother 
proudly.  "  He  is  getting  bigger  pay  now,  and  see  what  he 
has  sent  me  in  the  letter  I  got  to-day."  She  drew  the  letter 
out  of  her  pocket  and  unfolding  it  displayed  a  ten-dollar 
bill 

Mrs.  Winstead  congratulated  her  warmly,  both  on  her 
son's  success  and  on  his  thoughtfulness. 

"  Yes,  Felix  is  a  good  lad.  He  is  not  the  sort  to  let  his 
parents  be  entirely  dependent  upon  strangers  when  he  can 
work  to  help  them, ' '  said  Mrs.  Brant  with  a  pleased  smile. 

"You  don't  mean  to  call  us  strangers,  I  hope,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead.  "I  do  not  feel  so  and  I  don't  want  you  to 
think  that." 

"No,  indeed,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant  heartily.  "Why 
from  the  very  first  evening  I  felt  that  we  had  got  right  in 
among  friends  ;  and  dear  me,  there  is  that  girl  Jessica — it 
does  seem  to  me  that  she  should  rightly  be  mine,"  she 
added  with  a  little  laugh.  "You  have  two  others,  you 
know,  and  I  have  no  daughter." 

"Jessica  is  a  dear,  good  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  "but 
I  don' t  think  that  she  ever  took  to  any  one  as  she  has  to 
you.  Bertha  being  the  oldest,  and  Helen  being  every- 
body's pet,  Jessica  fell  rather  into  the  background."  Then 
plunging  boldly  into  the  subject  that  she  had  in  mind,  she 
said  :  ' '  People  used  to  say  that  she  was  very  like  her  great- 
aunt,  Jessica  Merrivale,  my  father' s  sister  ;  but  I  always 
remember  my  Aunt  Jessica  as  a  very  precise  and  at  times  a 
very  sharp-tempered  old  lady,  though  really  she  was  very 
kind  to  me." 

"Your  Jessica  can't  be  much  like  her  in  disposition," 
said  Mrs.  Brant  Then  after  a  momentary  hesitation  she 

L 


1 62  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

remarked  :  "I  have  heard  that  I  had  an  aunt  named  Jes- 
sica Merrivale  ;  but  I  never  saw  her  or  even  heard  much 
about  her.  She  was  my  father's  sister,  and  my  mother  had 
a  notion  that  she  was  not  at  all  kind.  At  any  rate  she  did 
not  seem  to  care  much  about  my  father.  He  died  before  I 
was  born,  so  you  see  I  never  really  saw  any  one  belonging 
to  that  family.  Still  I  gave  the  name  to  my  son,  for  I 
wanted  him  to  have  my  father' s  name  in  full. ' ' 

' '  I  had  the  same  wish, ' '  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  ' '  and  I 
named  my  oldest  son  for  my  father.  I  have  heard  that  my 
father  had  a  brother  Felix  who  died  out  West,  or  was  killed, 
I  should  say,  for  I  believe  that  the  first  his  family  knew  of 
it  was  through  seeing  the  account  of  an  accident  in  a 
Western  paper  that  was  sent  to  them.  But  we  have  always 
supposed  that  he  died  unmarried,  for  he  had  never  written 
home  that  he  was  married." 

"  Well,  now,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brant,  who  was  thoroughly 
roused  to  ask  and  to  give  information.  ' '  I  believe  that  we 
shall  find  out  that  we  are  own  cousins.  Would  you 
mind  ?" 

"I  should  be  very  glad,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  frankly, 
and  leaning  forward  she  kissed  Mrs.  Brant' s  cheek,  down 
which  a  tear  had  begun  to  roll  as  she  asked  the  question, 

Mrs.  Brant  got  up,  and  going  to  a  bracket  in  the  corner 
of  the  room,  took  down  a  small  Bible,  and  opening  the 
book  at  the  fly  leaf,  she  pointed  to  an  inscription  : 

' '  Jessica  Merrivale,  from  her  brother,  Felix. ' ' 

"I  came  across  that  one  day  when  I  was  dusting,  and  I 
showed  it  to  my  husband,  but  he  told  me  not  to  say  any- 
thing." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Mrs.  Winstead  still  more  surprised. 

"Well,  you  see  you  had  been  so  real  kind  to  us,  and  he 
didn'  t  know  but  there  might  have  been  some  old  quarrel  ; 


WE    ARE    COUSINS  163 

and  he  said  it  would  be  a  poor  return  to  you  for  us  to  go 
raking  up  any  old  stories.  If  you  wanted  to  tell  us  any- 
thing, you  would  do  it  when  you  felt  like  it." 

• '  I  wish  that  I  had  spoken  to  you  about  this  matter 
sooner,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  deeply  touched  by  the 
delicacy  of  feeling  shown  by  this  reticence. 

After  this  beginning  both  ladies  went  back  to  reminis- 
cences of  their  youth,  and  the  question  of  the  relationship 
was  fully  settled  in  their  minds  before  they  said  good-night. 
As  to  the  property  and  the  will,  Mrs.  Winstead  determined 
that  she  would  get  Mr.  Lindsay  to  explain  that  to  Mr. 
Brant  at  the  first  opportunity.  She  did  not  now  dread  any 
clashing  or  any  unfriendly  feeling.  In  getting  this  burden 
off  her  mind  her  anxiety  about  Mortimer  had  lessened. 

' '  God  is  smoothing  the  way  for  me  wonderfully.  Truly 
I  can  say,  'Blessed  are  they  that  put  their  trust  in  him,  '  " 
she  thought  as  she  went  to  her  own  room,  and  she  laid  her 
head  on  her  pillow  with  a  peaceful  and  thankful  spirit 

Mr.  Brant' s  cold  was  such  that  he  was  obliged  to  keep 
in  his  room  the  next  morning.  Nothing  was  said  to  the 
children  about  the  conversation  of  the  preceding  evening, 
but  Mrs.  Winstead  found  time  to  write  to  Aunt  Rachel  and 
tell  her  about  it,  and  to  urge  that  she  would  persuade 
Bertha  to  come  out  in  a  friendly  spirit  to  meet  her  cousins. 
This  done  she  was  busy  in  the  schoolroom  with  Helen  and 
Jessica,  when  a  shadow  passed  the  window  and  Helen 
exclaimed  : 

"There  is  Mortimer  again.  He  is  kept  all  the  time  run- 
ning in  and  out,  now  that  Mr.  Palmer  is  laid  up." 

Her  mother  pushed  the  books  hastily  aside,  and  saying  : 
"Take  your  arithmetic  now,  girls  ;  I  will  correct  the  exer- 
cises after  I  have  spoken  to  Mortimer,"  she  went  out 
to  meet  him. 


164  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Her  own  face  was  bright  and  smiling,  but  his  had  a  stern 
and  haggard  expression  that  she  had  never  seen  on  it 
before. 

"What  is  the  matter?  Is  there  more  trouble  about  that 
money  ? ' '  she  faltered  as  he  drew  her  into  the  parlor  and 
shut  the  door. 

"Yes,"  he  said  gloomily  as  he  threw  himself  on  the 
sofa.  "I'm  in  a  bad  plight  ;  and  the  worst  of  it  is  that  I 
don't  deserve  it  a  bit  I  told  you  last  night  that  Mr. 
Palmer  did  not  want  to  have  the  missing  note  talked  about, 
but  that  is  no  reason  that  you  and  I  should  not  talk."  Then 
he  began  and  told  her  all  about  the  money  and  how  it  was 
given  to  him. 

"  It  is  very  mysterious  and  very  annoying,  but  don't  feel 
so  badly  about  it,  dear.  As  I  took  back  the  gold  piece  at 
once,  it  is  plain  that  it  only  got  into  Jack' s  pocket  through 
heedlessness.  If  he  had  looked  closely  at  the  coins  that  he 
picked  up,  you  would  both  have  seen  at  once  that  it  did 
not  belong  to  you.  But  he  is  clear  now,  and  no  one,  I  am 
sure,  can  doubt  your  part  in  the  matter,"  and  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  laid  her  hand  with  a  warm  pressure  upon  that  of  her 
son. 

"There  is  just  the  trouble,"  said  Mortimer  hoarsely. 
"I  am  sure  that  Mr.  Palmer  does  suspect  me.  He  over- 
heard me  saying  that  I  wanted  a  rise  in  salary,  and  to-day 
he  asked  me  if  I  had  still  the  fifty-dollar  bill  that  Mr. 
Davenant  gave  me  in  payment  of  last  month's  salary." 

"Well,  dear,  I  don't  suppose  that  means  anything," 
replied  his  mother  anxiously.  ' '  You  told  me  that  it  was 
given  to  you  out  of  that  money,  and  very  likely  he  is  trying 
to  identify  the  missing  note.  You  could  let  him  see  it,  for 
you  could  not  have  been  in  town  in  time  to  deposit  it  in 
bank  yesterday. ' ' 


WE    ARE    COUSINS  165 

"I  have  no  money  in  bank,  mother;  I  have  not  the 
fifty-dollar  bill,  and  in  fact  I  have  only  three  dollars  all 
told,"  exclaimed  Mortimer  desperately. 

His  mother  looked  at  him  a  moment  aghast  "Have 
you  spent  it  all  ? "  she  asked  faintly. 

"No;  there  is  my  folly,"  said  Mortimer  bitterly.  "I 
have  lent  it  I  told  Mr.  Palmer  that  much,  but  it  would 
not  be  honorable  to  tell  to  whom  I  have  lent  it,  as  it  would 
get  the  fellow  into  trouble,  and  I  can  see  that  Mr.  Palmer 
does  not  like  the  looks  of  it  I  suppose  he  thinks  that  I  am 
getting  into  bad  company,"  he  continued,  his  face  flushing 
angrily  ;  ' '  but  the  fellow  I  lent  it  to  is  not  bad.  He  may 
be  foolish  in  the  way  he  lets  his  money  go,  but  I  am  sure 
he' s  not  bad. ' ' 

1 '  Oh,  my  boy,  my  boy  ! ' '  groaned  Mrs.  Winstead, 
"that  is  just  what  wrecked  your  father.  But  stay,"  she 
exclaimed,  suddenly  checking  herself  as  she  saw  the  look  of 
misery  on  her  son's  face  and  forcing  herself  to  think  of 
some  cheering  word  for  him  ;  "that  was  all  your  own 
money,  and  the  question  is  only  about  the  lost  note.  If 
Mr.  Davenant  dropped  the  gold  piece  in  that  heedless 
manner,  why  is  it  not  probable  that  he  made  a  mistake  in 
counting  the  notes  ?  Possibly  he  mislaid  it  even." 

1 '  That  won' t  help  me  a  bit  unless  I  can  prove  it  most 
unmistakably,"  said  Mortimer.  "  It  is  the  very  snag  that 
I  ran  against  in  clearing  Jack.  Mr.  Davenant  was  very 
friendly  until  I  mentioned  the  dropped  key  and  the  coins 
in  his  hand.  Then  he  stiffened  up.  Of  course  he  does  not 
like  to  be  proved  careless  in  the  eyes  of  his  partner,  and  really 
I  don't  see  myself  how  he  could  be  so  careless  twice  over," 
added  Mortimer.  ' '  But  as  there  was  absolutely  nobody  in 
the  office  that  morning  but  Mr.  Davenant  and  Jack  and  me, 
it  must  lie  between  us." 


1 66  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"There  was  the  gentleman  who  paid  the  money,"  cor- 
rected Mrs.  Winstead.  "Jack  told  me  that  he  met  him 
coming  out  just  as  he  got  there." 

"Oh,  of  course  Mr.  Appleby  was  there,"  said  Mortimer. 
"But  he  had  gone  before  all  this  trouble  ;  and  by  the  way, 
Jack  could  not  have  seen  him,  for  he  went  out  while  Mr. 
Davenant  and  I  were  in  the  outer  office,  and  I  did  not  see 
Jack  come  in." 

"I  am  sure  that  Jack  told  me  some  one  came  out  as  he 
went  in,"  repeated  Mrs.  Winstead  positively. 

' '  But  that  is  impossible.  I  only  heard  the  door  open 
once,"  said  Mortimer. 

"Jack  can  tell  you  about  it,"  said  his  mother.  "You 
ought  to  ask  him,  for  I  am  sure  that  he  said  somebody 
came  out  as  he  went  in." 

"To  be  sure  I'll  ask  him  ;  where  is  he?"  exclaimed 
Mortimer  excitedly.  "I  won't  leave  a  stone  unturned  to 
get  at  the  bottom  of  this  matter.  I  believe  that  Mr.  Palmer 
and  Mr.  Davenant  are  so  sluggish  about  the  affair  and 
want  me  to  tell  no  one  about  it  because  they  think  that 
I  am  to  blame,  and  they  want  to  let  me  off  easy  because 
of  previous  good  conduct — isn't  that  the  phrase?"  and  he 
laughed  bitterly. 

Mrs.  Winstead  grew  very  pale,  but  she  answered  stead- 
fastly :  ' '  Trust  in  the  Lord,  my  son,  and  he  will  make  it 
clear. ' ' 

"I  don't  know,"  muttered  Mortimer.  "It  does  seem 
hard  that  this  should  come  upon  me  when  I  have  been 
keeping  a  straight  and  steady  course.  I  can't  see  that  I 
deserved  it." 

Mrs.  Winstead' s  lips  trembled.  The  loss  of  his  money 
through  foolish  lending  and  the  loss  of  his  employer's  con- 
fidence through  the  strange  mystery  she  could  bear  up 


WE   ARE   COUSINS  167 

against,  but  that  her  boy  should  lose  his  faith  in  the  one 
Friend  who  never  could  err,  was  too  much  for  her,  and 
she  broke  down  and  wept  bitterly  after  Mortimer  had 
hurried  out  of  the  room  in  search  of  Jack  and  she  was 
left  alone. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

JACK   GIVES   A   CLUE 

MRS.  WINSTEAD  was   making  a  brave  effort  to  re- 
cover  her   self-control    and   was   drying    her  eyes 
when    the   sound  of  an   embarrassed    cough    behind   her 
caused  her  to  start  and  look  toward  the  door  that  Mortimer 
had  left  slightly  ajar  as  he  went  out 

Mr.  Lindsay  stood  there  wiping  his  eyeglasses  carefully 
preparatory  to  placing  them  on  his  nose.  She  rose  at  once 
and  extended  her  hand  with  a  cordial  greeting,  for  it  flashed 
into  her  mind  that  he  had  written  to  her  that  he  would  run 
out  soon  to  consult  with  her  concerning  an  investment  that 
was  not  turning  out  well.  She  hoped  that  he  had  not  no- 
ticed that  she  was  crying,  and  he  proceeded  at  once  to  draw 
out  a  package  of  papers,  so  that  his  eyes  were  not  turned  to 
her  face. 

"  I  hope  that  it  is  not  an  inconvenient  time  forme  to  in- 
terrupt you,"  he  said  kindly  ;  "but  I  came  out  to  explain  to 
you  about  that  mortgage  business.  The  fact  is  that  your  trus- 
tees made  a  bad  calculation  there.  Real  estate  went  down  in 
that  neighborhood,  and  the  property  was  put  up  for  sale. 
It  was  going  for  less  than  the  value  of  the  mortgage,  so  they 
bought  it  in.  They  think  that  it  will  sell  better  under  more 
favorable  circumstances,  and  meanwhile  they  hope  to  rent 
it  fairly  well  ;  but  just  at  present  it  cuts  off  from  your  income 
the  amount  of  interest  that  you  used  to  receive  on  that 
mortgage."  He  spread  out  some  papers  and  was  going  on, 
but  Mrs.  Winstead  interrupted  him  gently. 
168 


JACK    GIVES    A    CLUE  169 

"  I  am  sorry  that  it  should  happen  just  now,"  she  said  ; 
"  but  no  doubt  it  will  prove  to  be  all  right  and  for  the  best 
in  the  end.  Just  now  I  have  something  so  much  more  seri- 
ous to  think  of  that  I  want  to  ask  your  advice  about  that 
Would  you  mind  letting  those  papers  wait  ? ' ' 

"  Certainly  not, "  replied  Mr.  Lindsay,  folding  the  papers 
and  replacing  them  in  their  envelope  as  he  prepared  to 
listen.  To  his  surprise  Mrs.  Winstead  flushed  and  hesi- 
tated. She  had  just  remembered  that  Mortimer  had  told 
her  to  speak  to  no  one  about  the  lost  money,  and  she  felt 
sorely  puzzled  as  to  what  she  could  say  to  Mr.  Lindsay. 

' '  I  hope  that  you  have  had  no  further  trouble  about  that 
question  of  relationship,"  he  remarked. 

"About  the  Brants?"  said  Mrs.  Winstead.  "No,  I 
have  had  no  trouble  at  all  ;  but  there  is  something  that  I 
wanted  very  much  to  ask  you  to  do  for  me." 

Catching  eagerly  at  this  thought  that  had  been  almost 
pushed  from  her  mind  by  Mortimer's  difficulty,  she  told  of 
her  talk  with  Mrs.  Brant,  and  ended  by  asking  him  to  ex- 
plain to  her  and  to  Mr.  Brant  the  exact  terms  of  Miss 
Jessica  Merrivale's  will. 

"You  can  explain  it  all  so  much  more  clearly  than  I 
can,"  she  said,  anxiously  watching  Mr.  Lindsay's  face  as 
he  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  toe  of  his  boot  At  last 
he  looked  up  and  inquired  : 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  you  wish  me  to  tell  Mr.  Brant 
that  if  his  wife  can  legally  prove  her  relationship  to  your 
Uncle  Felix  she  will  be  entitled  to  one-half  of  the  property 
that  you  now  enjoy  ?" 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  wish.  And  please  explain  why 
I  cannot  give  it  up  without  good  legal  proof,"  said  Mrs. 
Winstead  ;  "for  personally  I  am  quite  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  Mrs.  Brant's  story." 


I/O  THE   MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Suppose  that  they  can  furnish  legal  proof,"  suggested 
Mr.  Lindsay.  "As  far  as  Mr.  Atherton  could  discover, 
none  exists.  But  we  must  face  the  possibility  that  it  may 
be  forthcoming  before  we  spur  on  the  Brant  family  to  search 
for  it." 

"  I  have  faced  that  possibility,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead  in 
a  low  but  firm  voice.  ' '  If  they  can  furnish  the  necessary 
proofs,  let  the  property  be  settled  accordingly." 

"Since  that  is  your  decision  1  suppose  that  I  would 
better  see  Mr.  Brant  at  once,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay,  and  Mrs. 
Winstead  rose  to  fetch  him. 

After  she  had  left  the  room  Mr.  Lindsay  sat  musing. 
"On  the  whole  this  is  a  wise  decision,"  he  thought 
"Atherton  believes  that  the  rogue  Hamilton  is  in  town  ; 
and  he  also  thinks  that  Hamilton  knows  something  about 
the  Brants.  If  that  is  the  case  it  is  much  better  that  there 
should  be  a  clear  understanding  between  all  the  parties 
concerned.  Nothing  so  completely  upsets  the  plans  of  a 
rogue  as  finding  himself  among  people  who  are  not  afraid 
to  speak  the  truth.  But  I  don't  believe  that  this  little 
woman  has  the  smallest  suspicion  that  Hamilton  might 
make  mischief.  It  is  clear  Christianity  on  her  part,  and  I 
must  say  that  I  have  generally  found  that  people  wear  their 
Christianity,  like  their  Sunday  clothes,  to  church,  and  keep 
another  suit  for  business  purposes." 

The  return  of  Mrs.  Winstead,  followed  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Brant,  interrupted  his  musings,  and  as  soon  as  the  first 
greetings  had  passed,  Mr.  Lindsay  plunged  at  once  into  the 
subject,  and  in  his  usual  dry  and  business-like  manner  ex- 
plained all  the  provisions  of  Miss  Jessica's  will.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Brant  listened  with  evident  surprise.  While  they  had 
suspected  the  relationship,  they  had  never  suspected  that  it 
gave  them  any  claim  to  property.  Mr.  Lindsay  addressed 


JACK   GIVES   A   CLUE  I?  I 

himself  directly  to  Mr.  Brant,  and  when  he  had  finished,  it 
was  that  gentleman  who  replied. 

"This  is,"  he  said  in  his  calm,  deliberate  voice,  "a 
complete  surprise  to  me  and  to  my  wife  ;  but  I  think  that 
I  can  speak  for  her  as  well  as  for  myself  in  saying  that  we 
should  deeply  regret  any  litigation.  As  far  as  I  have  any 
knowledge,  there  is  no  legal  proof  of  the  marriage  of  my 
wife's  parents  except  the  certificate  that  her  mother  pos- 
sessed. ' ' 

' '  That,  owing  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  this  case, 
would  have  to  be  proved  to  be  authentic,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay. 
"Of  course  such  a  document  might  fall  into  the  wrong 
hands — I  am  only  mentioning  this  to  show  you  why  we  must 
be  so  particular,"  he  explained  with  a  deprecatory  wave  of 
his  hand  toward  Mrs.  Brant ;  "and  no  one  seems  to  have 
been  aware  of  the  marriage  until  after  the  death  of  Mr. 
Merrivale." 

• '  Oh,  no,  the  neighbors  knew  that  my  mother  was  mar- 
ried," put  in  Mrs.  Brant 

' '  Ah,  who  were  the  neighbors  ? ' '   asked  Mr.  Lindsay. 

"Well,  I  can't  say.  I  may  have  heard  names,  but  I 
don' t  just  recall  any  now.  It  was  a  pretty  lonesome  place, 
and  they  didn't  see  many  folks,  I  guess,"  said  Mrs.  Brant 

"Do  you  suppose  advertising  would  bring  any  reliable 
information?"  asked  Mr.  Lindsay. 

' '  Oh,  no,  not  when  it  all  happened  so  long  ago.  Besides, 
I  would  not  let  anybody  go  advertising  for  proofs  of  my 
mother' s  marriage,  as  though  there  was  anybody  doubting 
it,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brant  hotly. 

"As  I  understand  it,"  interposed  Mr.  Brant's  calm 
voice,  "any  such  proofs  would  materially  injure  one  who 
has  been  very  kind  to  my  wife  and  myself.  I  have,  of 
course,  no  knowledge  of  the  value  of  the  property  at  present 


1/2  THE   MERRIVALE  WILL 

owned  by  Mrs.  Winstead  ;  but  any  surmises  that  I  may 
have  indulged  in  have  not  placed  it  at  such  a  figure  as 
would  admit  of  a  division  into  two  equal  shares  without  se- 
rious detriment  to  our  kind  cousin  and  to  her  family.  This 
idea  of  a  possible  claim  to  property  being  totally  unexpected 
by  myself,  and  I  am  sure  by  my  wife  also,  we  have  naturally 
held  no  consultation  as  to  any  advisable  course  of  procedure  ; 
but  I  think  that  I  may  safely  say  that  it  is  not  the  desire  of 
either  of  us  to  take  any  measures  that  would  injure  one  for 
whom  we  have  learned  to  entertain  sentiments  of  the  strongest 
affection  and  esteem,  and  to  whom  we  are  deeply  grateful." 

"Certainly  not  ;  I  should  hate  to  think  of  such  a  thing," 
eagerly  broke  in  Mrs.  Brant,  whose  bright  eyes  had  been 
fixed  on  Mrs.  Winstead' s  pale  face,  and  who  had  showed  a 
suspicion  of  restless  impatience  during  her  husband's  de- 
liberate speech. 

"You  are  very  good — very  kind,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead; 
"but  please  do  not  think  that  I  am  at  all  anxious  about  this 
money.  I  wish  it  could  all  be  settled  as  Aunt  Jessica  meant 
I  am  afraid  that  I  cared  too  much  at  first ;  but  then  I  did 
not  know  you,  and  besides  that  there  are  troubles  much 
worse  than  the  loss  of  part  of  one's  income.  I  only  want 
all  settled  exactly  fairly."  She  had  flushed  and  grown  pale 
as  she  spoke,  and  her  words  became  a  little  incoherent  as 
her  eyes  again  filled  with  tears. 

"My  dear,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Brant  with  prompt  and 
kindly  decision,  "we  are  not  going  to  talk  over  this  matter 
any  more  now.  If  you  are  not  tired  of  us  you  will  just  tell 
us  to  stay  on  here  a  bit  longer,  till  Mr.  Brant  gets  real  strong 
and  able  to  take  up  his  work  again  ;  but  we  will  keep  to 
ourselves  all  this  question  of  relationship  so  nobody's  tongue 
can  be  set  wagging  until  it  suits  ourselves.  That  will  be 
all  right,  sir,  won' t  it  ?  "  she  asked,  turning  to  Mr.  Lindsay. 


JACK    GIVES    A    CLUE  173 

"Certainly,  madame,"  he  responded  with  alacrity,  as  he 
was  greatly  pleased  to  find  that  these  dreaded  claimants  took 
such  a  kindly  and  unselfish  view  of  the  matter,  and  he  was 
also  beginning  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  get  back  to  other  engage- 
ments in  town. 

While  Mrs.  Winstead  was  warmly  assuring  her  cousins 
how  very  welcome  they  were  to  a  home  with  her  at  the  old 
farmhouse,  he  quietly  did  up  his  papers  and  rose  to  depart, 
feeling  that  a  much  more  important  matter  than  the  one 
that  brought  him  out  had  been  satisfactorily  settled.  As 
they  went  out  into  the  hall  Mrs.  Winstead  glanced  into 
the  dining  room  hoping  yet  half  dreading  that  the  boys 
would  appear,  but  they  were  nowhere  in  sight  She  said 
good-bye  to  Mr.  Lindsay,  and  turned  back  after  closing  the 
door  behind  him  to  meet  Mrs.  Brant  standing  at  the  foot  of 
the  stairs. 

"  Now,  my  dear,"  said  that  little  lady  briskly,  "we  are 
kin,  and  while  we  don' t  mean  to  parade  it  before  everybody, 
don't  you  forget  that  your  joys  and  sorrows  are  ours,  and  if 
you  have  any  troubles  or  worries  that  you  don' t  mind  shar- 
ing, come  to  me  and  my  husband."  She  looked  full  into 
Mrs.  Winstead' s  quivering  face  as  she  spoke,  and  then 
reaching  up  kissed  her. 

Poor  Mrs.  Winstead  could  only  trust  herself  to  murmur  a 
low  "Thank  you,"  but  she  returned  the  kiss,  and  a  friend- 
ship was  sealed  between  the  two  women  that  no  words 
could  strengthen. 

"Mamma,"  called  Jessica's  voice  from  the  schoolroom 
door,  "  can  you  come  now  ?  Helen  is  fretting  herself  into 
a  headache  over  these  sums,  and  I  don' t  know  what  has 
come  over  her  ;  she  makes  mistakes  in  the  very  easiest  of 
them. 

Mrs.   Winstead  gave  a  nervous  start,   but  quickly  con- 


1/4  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

trolling  herself  went  to  the  schoolroom,  where  she  found 
Helen  sitting  leaning  her  head  on  her  hands  in  a  listless, 
disconsolate  manner,  quite  unlike  her  lively  little  self.  As 
soon  as  her  mother  entered  she  burst  out  crying,  saying 
that  her  sums  were  so  hard  and  her  throat  hurt  her,  and  she 
was  so  tired  that  she  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  herself. 

"  Never  mind,  dear,  let  the  sums  go  for  the  present," 
said  her  mother  soothingly  as  she  took  the  child's  hot 
feverish  hand  in  her  own.  ' '  You  have  taken  cold  and  you 
would  better  come  upstairs  and  lie  down." 

Helen  obeyed  willingly  and  Mrs.  Winstead  gave  her 
some  simple  remedy  that  she  always  kept  on  hand  for 
feverish  colds,  and  devoted  herself  to  the  work  of  soothing 
her  and  making  her  more  comfortable.  She  told  herself 
that  she  must  not  let  her  anxiety  over  Mortimer's  diffi- 
culties make  her  nervously  alarmed  over  everything  ;  and 
as  soon  as  Helen  was  quieted  she  slipped  away  for  a  few 
minutes  to  pour  out  a  fervent  prayer  to  the  Helper  who  had 
never  failed  her.  As  she  came  downstairs  again  feeling 
strengthened  and  refreshed  she  met  Jack,  who  came  in  cold 
and  rosy. 

"  Mortimer  has  gone  back  to  town,"  he  said  in  answer 
to  her  questions.  "  He  met  Mr.  Lindsay  and  they  went  to 
the  station  together.  Poor  old  Mort  is  in  a  great  stew  over 
something,  but  he  won't  tell  me  what  is  the  matter.  It  is 
some  bother  at  the  office  I  suppose,  for  he  asked  me  a  lot 
of  questions  about  a  fellow  that  I  met  coming  out  as  I  went 
in." 

"I  was  sure  that  you  told  me  you  met  somebody,"  ex- 
claimed his  mother  eagerly.  "What  did  he  look  like?" 

"  He  was  short  and  slim  and  he  had  reddish  hair  and 
moustache.  He  looked  like  a  smug,  conceited  sort  of 
little  chap,"  replied  Jack  with  lofty  disdain. 


JACK    GIVES    A    CLUE  1/5 

"Did  Mortimer  say  that  he  knew  who  it  was?"  asked 
Mrs.  Winstead,  too  anxious  for  information  to  remember 
that  she  might  be  exciting  Jack  to  ask  awkward  questions. 

"No,  he  didn't  say  that  he  knew.  He  was  as  mum  as 
a  detective,"  replied  Jack  in  an  injured  tone.  "  But  I  told 
him  that  he  could  find  out  the  man's  name  from  Mr.  Mark 
Willoughby.  He  knows  him." 

' '  How  do  you  know  that  ? ' '  asked  his  mother  almost 
sharply  in  her  surprise. 

"Because  he  sent  me  racing  after  him  with  a  note  that 
same  morning,"  said  Jack  promptly. 

' '  Oh,  you  mean  when  Mr.  Davenant  sent  you  to  Mr. 
Willoughby' s  with  the  letter,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  re- 
lieved to  find  Jack's  association  with  Mark  Willoughby  was 
purely  accidental.  "  Now  go  upstairs  quietly,  my  boy,  for 
Helen  is  not  well.  I  may  want  you  to  go  for  Doctor  Scott 
if  she  does  not  seem  better  by  afternoon." 

March  seemed  to  be  encroaching  upon  April,  for  it  was 
still  cold  and  bleak,  and  the  snow  lingered  in  patches, 
while  a  cloudy  sky  seemed  to  threaten  rain.  Helen's  fever 
seemed  to  abate  a  little  and  she  slept  during  the  afternoon  ; 
but  she  passed  such  a  bad  night  that  Mrs.  Winstead  sent 
for  the  doctor  the  first  thing  in  the  morning.  After  exam- 
ining his  patient  the  old  doctor  inquired  what  contagious 
diseases  she  had  had. 

"  Helen  and  Bertha  had  the  chicken-pox  ;  and  I  believe 
that  is  all,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead.  "The  others  have  had 
nearly  all  the  diseases  that  children  catch  ;  but  that  was 
before  Helen  was  born,  and  Bertha  happened  to  be  away 
with  her  aunt  at  the  time  sickness  was  in  the  house." 

• '  Well,  I  cannot  say  positively,  but  this  is  beginning  in 
the  same  way  that  some  of  the  contagious  diseases  start," 
said  the  doctor.  ' '  You  would  better  keep  her  away  from 


1/6  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

the  other  children.  The  older  ones  are  in  town,  are  they 
not?  Well,  so  much  the  better." 

"I  expect  Bertha  home  this  evening,"  said  Mrs.  Win- 
stead.  "  She  is  coming  out  to  see  us." 

"Telegraph  to  her  to  wait  till  to-morrow,"  replied  the 
doctor  shortly.  ' '  An  ounce  of  prevention  is  worth  a  pound 
of  cure. ' '  Then  he  left  his  directions  and  promising  to 
stop  in  the  next  morning  he  went  downstairs.  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  would  have  accompanied  him,  but  he  waved  her  back 
saying:  "No,  no,  don't  tire  yourself  with  unnecessary 
steps." 

In  the  passage  he  was  met  by  Mrs.  Brant,  who  was 
anxious  to  learn  his  opinion  of  the  little  patient,  and  to  her 
he  spoke  more  freely. 

' '  There  is  a  case  of  scarlet  fever  and  one  of  diphtheria 
in  the  village,  and  I  cannot  tell  until  to-morrow  how  this  will 
turn.  I  don*  t  want  to  alarm  Mrs.  Winstead,  but  I  want  the 
child  isolated  until  we  are  sure  what  is  the  matter." 

"Jack  has  gone  with  Mr.  Brant  to  Mr.  Marshall's,"  said 
Mrs.  Brant.  ' '  They  are  to  help  Mrs.  Marshall  to  cover  a 
batch  of  Sunday-school  library  books." 

"All  right  ;  let  them  stay  there  till  they  are  sent  for," 
said  Dr.  Scott-in  his  quick  way,  and  he  said  good-bye  and 
hurried  off. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  him,  Mrs.  Brant  heard  Mrs. 
Winstead' s  voice  calling  Jane,  and  the  kitchen  door  opened 
and  Jane  appeared  with  floury  hands  and  a  face  that  showed 
plainly  that  she  did  not  like  to  be  interrupted  in  the  knead- 
ing of  a  batch  of  bread. 

"Maybe  I  can  do  what  is  needed,"  said  Mrs.  Brant, 
who  was  on  very  friendly  terms  with  Jane,  and  stood  high 
in  Jane's  good  graces  because  she  was  "  a  quiet,  peaceable 
body,  and  not  a  bit  upsetting  in  her  ways." 


JACK    GIVES    A    CLUE  1 77 

It  proved  to  be  the  telegram  that  Mrs.  Winstead  was 
eager  to  send  at  once  to  Bertha,  and  also  a  message  to  the 
druggist 

"Jessica  can  attend  to  it,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead,  as  soon 
as  she  heard  how  Jane  was  employed  ;  ' '  but  please  take  it 
to  her,  and  don' t  let  her  come  to  the  room. ' ' 

Mrs.  Brant  willingly  copied  out  the  telegram  and  went  in 
search  of  Jessica,  who  was  feeling  lonely  and  depressed 
without  Helen  and  was  glad  to  find  that  there  was  some- 
thing for  her  to  do.  She  had  hardly  been  gone  five  min- 
utes when  there  was  a  ring  at  the  door  bell  that  made  Jane 
again  take  her  hands  from  her  bread.  But  Mrs.  Brant  was 
at  hand  as  before  and  cheerfully  offered  to  go  to  the  door. 
Jane,  who  prided  herself  on  knowing  everybody  in  the 
neighborhood,  peeped  through  the  crack  of  the  kitchen 
door  to  see  that  Mrs.  Brant  did  not  have  to  trouble  Mrs. 
Winstead.  As  she  heard  the  voice  of  a  stranger  inquiring 
for  Mrs.  Brant,  she  withdrew  her  head  and  returned  to  her 
kneading  with  the  remark  : 

• f  Well,  he' s  easy  served,  for  he' s  got  the  body  he  wants 
right  before  his  nose." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

HOW    MRS.   BRANT    MET    INSINUATIONS 

MRS.  BRANT  was  showing  the  stranger  into  the  parlor, 
wondering  greatly  in  her  own  mind  what  he  could 
want  of  her,  and  who  he  could  be,  as  she  did  not  recognize 
him. 

He  solved  the  latter  point  by  handing  her  a  card,  on 
which  was  engraved  the  name  Robert  G.  Hamilton,  and 
saying,  with  a  bow  : 

"I  must  introduce  myself,  Mrs.  Brant,  for  I  do  not  sup- 
pose that  you  would  remember  me,  though  I  used  to  know 
your  mother." 

' '  I  don' t  remember  your  name, ' '  said  Mrs.  Brant,  with 
her  usual  outspoken  frankness,  as  she  glanced  from  the 
card  to  her  visitor  with  a  puzzled  feeling  that  she  had  seen 
his  face  before.  But  he  replied  immediately  : 

"That  is  not  strange,  as  I  knew  your  mother  a  good 
many  years  ago,  farther  back  than  a  lady  is  likely  to  re- 
member, ' '  he  put  in,  with  an  attempt  at  facetiousness  that 
was  entirely  lost  upon  Mrs.  Brant,  who  pushed  a  chair 
toward  him  and  sat  down  herself  in  silence.  "I  was  a 
young  fellow  then,"  he  continued,  " and  your  mother  and 
her  folks  were  kind  to  me,  so  when  I  heard  that  you  were 
here  I  thought  I  would  like  to  make  myself  known  to  you." 

Mrs.  Brant  was  too  truthful,  and  too  little  used  to  polite 

conventionalities,  to  say  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him,  for 

really  she  did  not  like  his  face.     Still,  as  she  knew  nothing 

of  him,  she  felt  a  little  ashamed  of  her  prejudice,  and  she 

178 


HOW    MRS.    BRANT   MET   INSINUATIONS          1 79 

simply  puckered  her  brows  in  the  vain  effort  to  recall  some 
association  that  might  account  for  her  dim  impression  that 
she  had  seen  him  before.  Her  silence  did  not  seem  to  dis- 
concert him,  for  he  began  again  : 

' '  You  have  not  been  very  long  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try, and  it  occurred  to  me  that  an  old  friend,  as  I  might 
almost  call  myself,  could  perhaps  do  you  a  good  turn..  How 
is  your  son  getting  on  ? " 

"Very  well.     Very  well,  indeed,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant 

"Ah  !  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  remarked  Mr.  Hamilton, 
with  a  little  surprise  in  his  tone.  "Young  men  without 
capital  sometimes  find  it  rather  hard  to  get  a  start" 

"Some  men  who  begin  with  nothing  come  out  far  ahead 
of  those  who  start  with  their  pockets  full,"  said  Mrs.  Brant 
tersely. 

4 '  That  is  true,  very  true,  indeed  ;  still,  a  little  to  start  with 
is  not  a  bad  thing  ;  and  no  doubt  you  have  often  thought 
that  you  would  like  to  give  your  son  a  little  help, ' '  said  Mr. 
Hamilton  in  an  insinuating  tone. 

"  I  have  helped  him  all  I  can,  for  I  did  my  best  to  bring 
him  up  steady  and  honest,  to  fear  God,  and  to  be  just  to  his 
fellows, ' '  replied  Mrs.  Brant,  looking  her  visitor  in  the  face. 

"  Hm,  ah  yes,  very — very  praiseworthy, "  said  Mr.  Ham- 
ilton, stammering  a  little  ;  but  he  quickly  recovered  him- 
self and  said  :  "  Mrs.  Brant,  that  is  spoken  just  as  I  imag- 
ined that  you  would  speak,  and  it  makes  me  the  more 
satisfied  that  I  have  this  opportunity  to  talk  with  you.  The 
fact  is  that  I  have  a  little  private  information  to  give  to  you 
that  may  be  of  considerable  value  to  yourself  and  to  your 
good  husband,  as  well  as  helpful  to  your  son.  Can  we  talk 
here  without  fear  of  interruption,  or  shall  we  appoint  some 
other  time  and  place  ? ' ' 

' '  I  don' t  see  why  you  shouldn'  t  say  all  you  have  got  to 


ISO  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

say  here, ' '  replied  Mrs.  Brant.  ' '  Mrs.  Winstead  is  occu. 
pied  with  one  of  her  children,  who  is  sick." 

' '  I  see  that  you  don' t  fully  trust  me, ' '  said  Mr.  Hamilton, 
smiling  as  he  noticed  Mrs.  Brant's  brusque  tone.  "Well, 
it  is  right  to  be  cautious  until  one  knows  people.  However, 
to  show  you  that  I  really  know  what  I  am  talking  about,  I 
think  that  I  had  better  explain  to  you  at  once  one  of  the 
motives  that  brought  me  here.  You  will  see  then  that  I  am 
inclined  to  act  purely  in  your  interest." 

"If  I've  got  anything  to  say,  I  always  say  it  out,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Brant,  ' '  and  I  never  could  see  any  good 
reason  why  other  folks  shouldn't  do  the  same.  It  saves 
lots  of  time  and  trouble. ' ' 

"Quite  true.  I  see  that  you  know  how  to  hit  the  nail  on 
the  head,"  replied  Mr.  Hamilton  with  a  little  laugh.  Then 
drawing  his  chair  a  little  closer,  and  speaking  in  a  low,  im- 
pressive tone,  he  continued  :  ' '  The  fact  is,  Mrs.  Brant, 
that,  although  you  are  not  aware  of  it,  you  are  at  present 
staying  with  relations,  and  the  reason  why  I  wished  to 
speak  to  you  privately  is  just  this  :  Mrs.  Winstead  and  her 
family  are  perfectly  well  aware  of  the  relationship  and  they 
are  planning  to  keep  it  a  secret  from  you  and  your  husband, 
plotting  to  defraud  you,  to  put  it  plainly." 

• '  There  you  are  mistaken ' '  began  Mrs.  Brant  hotly  ; 

but  he  interrupted  her. 

1 '  I  know  very  well  that  this  takes  you  by  surprise.  In 
short,  it  is  a  shock  to  you  and  you  are  unwilling  to  believe 
anything  that  looks  like  casting  a  slur  on  one  who  has  be- 
friended you  and  your  husband  ;  and  therefore  I  have  not 
come  to  you  with  only  my  own  suspicions.  I  have  made 
most  careful  inquiries,  and  am  prepared  to  prove  all  that  I 
say.  Did  your  mother  ever  speak  to  you  of  your  aunt,  Miss 
Jessica  Merrivale  ? ' ' 


HOW    MRS.    BRANT    MET    INSINUATIONS          l8l 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  the  name,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant,  who 
had  now  so  much  curiosity  to  learn  what  was  coming  that 
she  curbed  her  indignation. 

"Did  she  ever  say  anything  about  Miss  Jessica  Merri- 
vale'  s  will  ? "  he  asked. 

' '  No  ;  my  mother  never  heard  whether  she  was  alive  or 
dead,  and  it  was  not  likely  that  she  would  know  anything 
about  her  will,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant  "We  had  nothing  to 
do  with  her." 

"Exactly,"  said  Mr.  Hamilton.  "That  is  as  I  supposed. 
But  now  it  is  only  right  that  you  should  know  that  you  are 
the  heir  to  a  large  share  of  Miss  Merrivale's  property,  and 
your  share  is  now  entirely  in  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Winstead. 
Now  perhaps  you  can  see  the  game  that  Mrs.  Winstead  and 
her  lawyer  are  trying  to  play  upon  you  ;  and  you  will  under- 
stand my  indignation  when  I  discovered  it  Under  the 
guise  of  friendship  she  is  keeping  you  and  your  husband 
from  making  any  effort  to  gain  what  rightfully  belongs  to 
you." 

"I  see  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Mrs.  Brant  bluntly. 
"If  Mrs.  Winstead  had  the  design  that  you  would  have  me 
believe,  she  would  never  have  taken  pains  to  bring  us  East, 
and  even  into  her  house,  at  a  time  when  she  knew  that  if 
she  let  us  alone  we  were  likely  to  die  in  poverty  away  out 
in  Colorado,  where  we  should  never  be  likely  to  hear  of  her 
or  her  property,  and  nobody  about  her  would  ever  have 
heard  of  us. ' ' 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Hamilton  impressively. 
"Suppose  that  Mrs.  Winstead  did  not  know  that  you  had 
never  heard  of  her,  nor  of  the  will.  Suppose,  on  the  con- 
trary, that  she  knew  that  you  were  either  in  possession  of 
these  facts,  or  likely  soon  to  be  informed  of  them.  And 
suppose  that  she  and  her  eldest  son  consulted  together  and 


I  82  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

then  decided  if  they  could  get  hold  of  you  and  play  upon 
your  feelings  by  acting  a  charitable  part — with  your  own 
money,  remember — they  could  keep  you  in  ignorance,  or 
at  least  hamper  you  with  the  feeling  that  you  would  injure 
benefactors  if  you  pushed  inquiries. ' ' 

"Well,  suppose  all  this  if  you  like,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Brant, 
who  was  beginning  to  read  her  visitor,  and  did  not  care  to 
furnish  him  with  any  information,  at  least  until  she  found 
out  how  much  he  already  knew  ;  ' '  what  then  ? ' ' 

' '  I  only  interfere  in  this  matter  at  all  through  the  feeling 
of  respect  and  gratitude  that  I  had  for  your  mother,  and  a 
desire  to  repay  to  her  daughter  the  kindnesses  she  showed 
to  me,"  said  Mr.  Hamilton.  "My  own  feelings  would 
lead  me  naturally  to  shun  such  people  as  Mrs.  Winstead 
and  her  two  sons  have  shown  themselves  to  be.  I  might 
also  add  the  older  daughter  to  the  list,"  he  added  with  a 
scornful  tone.  ' '  You  have  not  met  her,  I  believe  ? ' '  He 
paused  for  a  reply,  and  Mrs.  Brant  replied  shortly  : 

' '  No,  I  have  not. ' ' 

"I  supposed  as  much,"  he  said,  with  a  slight  shrug. 
' '  But  really  she  is  much  less  to  blame,  as  with  her  it  is  at 
all  events  open  enmity.  She  heartily  detests  both  you  and 
your  husband,  and  will  not  enter  the  house  while  you  are 
in  it  Very  probably  she  has  the  sense  to  be  afraid  of  the 
game  that  the  others  are  playing." 

"Sir,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brant  indignantly,  "what  do  you 
suppose  that  I  can  think  of  a  man,  a  perfect  stranger  to  me, 
who  comes  and  tells  me  such  tales  ? ' ' 

"Ah  !  you  mistrust  me  still,"  said  Mr.  Hamilton,  with  a 
deprecatory  smile.  "I  laid  myself  open  to  that,  I  see,  and 
evidently  the  Winsteads  calculated  well  on  your  loyal 
nature.  But  I  can  tell  you  one  thing  that  will  serve  to  show 
you  what  sort  of  people  you  have  to  deal  with.  Do  you 


HOW   MRS.    BRANT    MET    INSINUATIONS          183 

know  that  young  Mortimer  Winstead  lies  under  suspicion 
of  having  stolen  a  fifty-dollar  note  from  his  employers  ?  Do 
you  know  that  the  evidence  was  found  that  he  had  bribed 
his  young  brother  with  a  share  in  the  booty  to  help  him  in 
the  robbery  ?  No,"  he  continued,  as  Mrs.  Brant  began  a 
hasty  denial,  "I  see  that  you  do  not  know  all  this.  Mrs. 
Winstead  would  not  tell  you  ;  she  is  doing  her  best  to  cover 
it  up.  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  she  could  she  would  pay  the 
money  back  and  hush  up  the  matter.  She  did  take  back 
the  gold  piece  that  was  her  younger  son' s  share,  but  Mor- 
timer Winstead  has  been  squandering  in  town  both  his  own 
salary  and  all  that  she  had  saved,  so  she  cannot  replace  the 
fifty  dollars  unless  she  has  time  given  her.  I  would  not  be 
afraid  to  prophesy  that  a  young  man  who  has  done  so  badly 
when  he  has  been  only  a  few  weeks  away  from  his  mother' s 
apron  string,  will  manage  to  get  into  fresh  disgrace  before 
this  is  cleared  off." 

Mrs.  Brant  looked  intensely  distressed.  The  fact  that 
Mrs.  Winstead  was  in  some  serious  trouble  had  been  very 
plain  to  her,  and  she  had  heard  enough  and  noticed  enough 
to  convince  her  that  the  trouble  was  in  some  way  connected 
with  Mortimer's  work,  but  the  idea  that  there  was  any  ques- 
tion of  dishonesty  connected  with  it  had  not  once  occurred 
to  her.  She  felt  an  unconquerable  dislike  to  this  man,  but 
evidently  he  knew  enough  to  piece  out  a  very  plausible  and 
very  ill-sounding  story.  Though  she  was  usually  as  quick 
of  speech  as  her  husband  was  slow,  in  this  emergency  she 
could  not  decide  what  to  say. 

"  I  see  that  you  are  shocked,"  continued  Mr.  Hamilton, 
after  waiting  a  few  minutes  and  finding  that  she  remained 
silent.  "I  was  shocked  too,  though  I  cannot  say  that  I 
was  surprised,  for  I  knew  this  young  man's  father,  and  his 
dealings  were  none  of  the  straightesL  I  helped  him  out  of 


184  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

a  good  many  difficulties,  and  lost  a  good  deal  of  money 
through  him.  He  died  and  there  was  an  end  of  that  matter, 
for  I  did  not  mean  to  press  his  widow,  and  since  she  came 
into  this  property  she  has  taken  good  care  to  avoid  me.  It 
made  no  difference  to  me,  for  I  had  no  intention  of  making 
any  claim.  If  I  lose  my  money  by  mistaken  friendship  for 
a  man,  I  am  not  the  one  to  screw  it  out  of  women  and  chil- 
dren after  his  death.  But  when  I  discovered  that  his  son 
was  following  in  his  footsteps,  and  that  you  and  your  hus- 
band were  in  the  clutches  of  people  of  that  stamp,  I  could 
not  make  up  my  mind  to  pass  by  indifferently  without  giv- 
ing you  a  word  of  warning." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  a  word  of  warning?"  asked 
Mrs.  Brant  abruptly. 

' '  I  mean  that  instead  of  allowing  yourself  to  be  deceived 
and  fleeced  by  them,  you  ought  to  claim  your  rights  and 
then  wash  your  hands  of  them  entirely,"  replied  Mr. 
Hamilton,  in  low,  incisive  tones. 

"What  if  I  say  that  I  think  that  you  are  completely  mis- 
informed or  mistaken  in  your  information  and  your 
guesses?"  said  Mrs.  Brant  shrewdly. 

"  I  will  give  you  more  proofs,"  said  the  man  with  an  air 
of  patient  tolerance.  ' '  First,  a  small  thing,  but  it  will 
serve  to  show  you  that  I  am  not  inventing.  Has  not  Mrs. 
Winstead'  s  daughter  been  expected  several  times  and  has 
she  not  always  failed  to  come  ? ' ' 

Mrs.  Brant  nodded.  She  would  not  give  him  any  more 
information  than  she  could  help  ;  but  when  it  came  to  a 
plain  question  she  answered,  as  she  always  did,  truthfully. 

"Well,"  he  continued,  "I  heard  from  her  own  lips  that 
she  did  not  mean  to  come  here  as  long  as  you  and  Mr. 
Brant  remained,  as  she  disliked  to  associate  with  low  and 
vulgar  people.  Pardon  me  for  repeating  the  terms  in  which 


HOW    MRS.    BRANT    MET    INSINUATIONS          185 

this  young  lady  spoke  of  yourself  and  of  your  most  accom- 
plished and  high-minded  husband.  Now  the  second  proof 
is  in  a  more  important  matter.  Your  claim  requires  to  be 
proved,  and  I  fancy  that  you  will  need  proofs  of  the  mar- 
riage of  your  parents.  Possibly  you  would  find  it  difficult 
to  produce  them  as  this  matter  has  never  been  called  in 
question  ;  but  I  can  engage  to  furnish  sufficiently  strong 
proofs  to  satisfy  any  court" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Brant  quickly. 

"You  begin  to  trust  me  a  little  now,"  he  said  with  a 
smile,  for  his  watchful  eye  had  noticed  that  the  color  flew 
into  her  cheeks  at  his  version  of  Bertha1  s  words.  ' '  Well, ' ' 
he  continued,  assuming  a  confidential  tone,  ' '  the  fact  is 
that  I  should  have  brought  these  proofs  of  which  I  speak, 
and  have  placed  the  whole  affair  entirely  in  your  hands  to 
be  acted  upon  at  once  ;  but  I  am  slightly  hampered  about  pro- 
curing these  proofs  because  it  involves  a  moderate  amount 
of  expense  and  that  I  am  unfortunately  unable  to  meet. 
For  the  first  time  I  seriously  regret  the  money  that  I  threw 
away  in  helping  Mrs.  Winstead's  husband,  for  if  I  had  it 
I  could  now  use  it  for  your  benefit" 

"How  much  is  this  going  to  cost?"  asked  Mrs.  Brant, 
eyeing  him  keenly.  She  seemed  now  to  have  laid  aside  all 
her  anxiety  and  her  suspicions  and  to  have  resumed  her 
practical  businesslike  way  of  looking  at  things.  ' '  You 
know  that  we  are  not  rich  people." 

"Well,  the  expense  might  be  anywhere  from  fifty  to  one 
hundred  dollars, "  said  Mr.  Hamilton,  apparently  calculating 
as  he  spoke.  ' '  I  could  not  say  exactly,  because  I  am  not 
sure  what  amount  of  traveling  would  have  to  be  done. 
However,  I  can  assure  you  of  this  much,  that  I  would  do 
it  all  as  cheaply  as  possible,  and  I  think  that  I  have  facil- 
ities that  would  enable  me  to  do  it  cheaper  than  any  one 


I  86  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

else.  I  only  wish  that  I  could  do  it  entirely  out  of  my  own 
pocket ' ' 

"I  don't  want  you  to  do  anything  for  me  out  of  your 
own  pocket, ' '  returned  Mrs.  Brant  brusquely.  '  •  That  is 
not  my  way  of  doing  business.  So  you  think  it  will  take 
one  hundred  dollars  to  do  this.  Well,  I  have  not  got  it" 

"Oh,  no,  I  do  not  say  that,"  replied  Mr.  Hamilton. 
"  The  expense  may  not  exceed  fifty  ;  and  at  any  rate  I 
should  not  expect  to  have  to  lay  out  the  whole  sum  at  once. 
If  you  authorize  me  to  proceed,  you  need  give  me  only 
enough  to  begin  the  necessary  inquiries." 

"  Then  if  I  were  to  pay  you  fifty  dollars,  you  think  that 
would  be  all  that  is  necessary,"  said  Mrs.  Brant  in  a  con- 
sidering tone. 

' '  Yes, ' '  he  said,  ' '  fifty  dollars  would  do,  and  I  will  en- 
gage to  furnish  all  necessary  proofs. ' ' 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Brant  rising  from  her  chair  and  draw- 
ing a  long  breath.  "  Now,  Mr.  Hamilton,  I've  listened  to 
a  good  deal  from  you  and  you  can  listen  to  a  little  from  me. 
Mrs.  Winstead  has  concealed  nothing  from  me,  as  I  was 
going  to  tell  you  at  first,  if  you  hadn'  t  been  so  eager  to 
talk.  I  know  a  great  deal  more  about  her  family  and  her 
money  matters  than  you  do  ;  and  she  told  me  all  herself. 
What  you  have  said  about  her  sons  and  her  daughter  I  am 
free  to  believe  or  doubt,  just  as  I  choose.  But  I'll  tell  you 
this  :  I  shall  not  pay  you  nor  anybody  else  fifty  dollars  to 
prove  my  mother's  marriage." 

"Of  course,  you  will  do  just  as  you  please,"  said  Mr. 
Hamilton,  who  had  also  risen  to  his  feet  and  drawn  in  his 
lips  closely  during  her  words.  ' '  If  you  have  not  that 
amount  at  your  disposal,  it  is  unfortunate  ;  for  it  means  the 
loss  to  you  of  a  very  much  larger  sum. ' ' 

"I   have  got  that  amount  at  my  disposal,"  exclaimed 


HOW  MRS.    BRANT    MET    INSINUATIONS          187 

Mrs.  Brant,  who  was  now  thoroughly  roused  by  his  sneer- 
ing tone  and  forgot  for  the  moment  her  prudent  self-con- 
trol. "  I  could  give  it  to  you  this  minute  if  I  chose,  but  I 
do  not  choose.  And  I'  11  tell  you  another  thing,  Mr.  Ham- 
ilton :  if  there  is  any  truth  in  the  rigmarole  that  you  have 
told  me,  and  if  fifty  dollars  will  clear  Mortimer  Winstead 
from  what  is,  I  am  sure,  an  unjust  suspicion,  I'll  give  it 
every  penny,  before  he  and  his  mother  shall  suffer,  though 
it  is  all  I've  got  Now  I  think  we  have  said  all  that  we 
need  to  say  to  each  other,"  and  with  cheeks  as  rosy  and 
her  eyes  bright  as  any  young  girl's,  Mrs.  Brant  whipped 
briskly  around  and  opened  the  parlor  door. 

Mr.  Hamilton  had  no  alternative  but  to  walk  out,  and 
Mrs.  Brant  followed  him  and  closed  the  house  door  behind 
him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES 

MRS.  BRANT S  first  impulse  was  to  go  to  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  and  offer  all  the  sympathy  and  help  that  lay 
in  her  power  ;  but  the  sound  of  Helen's  fretful  cry  re- 
minded her  that  she  could  have  no  conversation  now.  She 
felt  too  restless  and  indignant  to  settle  quietly  to  any  work, 
and  she  went  to  the  kitchen  where  Jane  was  silently  paring 
potatoes  for  the  dinner. 

"  I  wish  I  had  gone  out  myself.  See  what  a  wetting 
that  child  will  get ! ' '  exclaimed  Jane,  looking  up  at  the 
window  as  Mrs.  Brant  entered,  and  that  lady  awoke  to  the 
consciousness  that  a  heavy  April  shower  was  beating 
against  the  panes.  In  her  excitement  she  had  hardly 
noticed  the  weather  when  she  let  Mr.  Hamilton  out 

"Your  visitor  didn't  choose  a  very  nice  day  for  making 
calls,"  remarked  Jane,  who  felt  curious  to  know  who  the 
stranger  was. 

"The  man  and  the  day  were  a  well-matched  pair," 
retorted  Mrs.  Brant  grimly  ;  but  the  entrance  of  Jessica  at  that 
moment,  wet  and  breathless  from  her  run  through  the  rain, 
gave  both  Mrs.  Brant  and  Jane  a  fresh  subject  of  thought, 
and  Mr.  Hamilton  was  forgotten  in  their  eager  efforts  to 
dry  Jessica  and  to  persuade  each  other  and  her  that  she 
would  certainly  be  laid  up  with  a  bad  cold  unless  she  did 
all  that  they  recommended  in  the  way  of  rubbing  and 
changing  clothes.  This  occupation  was  an  immense  relief 
to  Mrs.  Brant,  and  Jessica,  who  had  a  peculiar  faculty 
188 


HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES  189 

for  understanding  her  friends'  moods,  submitted  with  her 
usual  easy  good-nature  to  a  good  deal  of  unnecessary  cod- 
dling. 

In  this  way  Mrs.  Brant  managed  to  work  off  her  nervous 
impatience,  or  at  least  to  keep  it  under  control  ;  but  it  was 
a  great  relief  to  her  when,  as  the  shower  slackened,  she 
heard  her  husband's  voice  in  the  hall  Dr.  Scott  had 
stopped  at  Mr.  Marshall's  to  tell  them  that  he  did  not  wish 
Jack  to  go  home  until  the  nature  of  Helen's  illness  was 
more  clearly  decided,  and  Mr.  Brant,  learning  that  he 
dreaded  scarlet  fever,  had  come  over  at  once  to  inquire 
what  he  could  do. 

"The  best  thing  for  you  to  do,"  said  his  wife,  "is  to 
keep  out  of  the  way  and  look  after  Jack  ;  I  don't  want 
you  to  run  any  risk  of  carrying  contagion  ;  but  since  you 
are  here  I  must  say  that  I'  m  awfully  glad  to  see  you.  Come 
in  here  and  listen  to  what  I  have  to  tell  you,"  and  she  led 
the  way  into  the  parlor,  where  she  related  to  him  as  accu- 
rately as  she  could  remember  all  the  conversation  with  her 
visitor. 

' '  Apparently  he  is  some  unprincipled  fellow  who  has  got 
hold  of  certain  facts  from  which  he  desires  to  make  as 
much  money  as  possible,"  said  her  husband.  "  You  acted 
very  wisely  in  giving  him  no  satisfaction  and  in  avoiding 
furnishing  him  any  information." 

"My  fingers  ached  to  give  him  a  good  shaking,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Brant  "But  there,  let  him  go  now  ;  he  is 
not  worth  remembering.  We  must  think  about  our  poor 
cousin,  for  she  certainly  has  troubles  enough  and  to  spare. 
I  wonder  if  that  wretched  man  will  try  to  rig  up  some  fresh 
stories  about  that  poor  Bertha,  because  her  mother  had  to 
telegraph  to  her  not  to  come  home  to-day. ' ' 

' '  I  doubt  if  he  will  attempt  anything  further, ' '  replied 


I9O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

Mr.  Brant  "His  object  evidently  was  to  obtain  money, 
and  failing  in  that  he  will  probably  turn  his  attention  else- 
where. There  is,  however,  some  truth,  I  fear,  in  the  tale  of 
Mortimer' s  difficulties,  as  I  have  already  learned  from  Jack 
that  he  is  worried  about  some  missing  money." 

"  It  just  makes  me  sick  to  think  that  such  a  rascal  has  any 
chance  to  injure  Mortimer,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brant ;  but  her 
husband  replied  in  his  quiet  tones  : 

' '  We  have  a  stronger  refuge  than  any  that  our  weak  arms 
can  build  to  protect  our  friends.  If  we  trust  all  in  the 
hands  of  the  Lord  he  will  show  us  the  way  to  do  the  best 
for  our  friends,  and  the  most  honest  and  kindly  course  for 
ourselves  to  pursue." 

"I  declare  if  I  don't  always  need  reminding,"  said  his 
wife  with  a  half-angry  shake  of  her  head.  • '  I  get  riled, 
and  then  I  get  to  thinking  and  planning  at  such  a  rate  that 
I  'most  forget  to  ask  any  help.  But  there  is  one  thing  that 
I  never  forget,  and  never  shall  as  long  as  I'  ve  got  any  mind 
left,"  she  added  with  a  gleam  of  tears  in  her  bright  eyes, 
"  and  that  is  that  the  Lord  spared  you  to  me  to  keep  me 
straight" 

The  white-haired  husband  and  wife  clasped  hands  with 
a  fervor  that  could  not  have  been  equalled  in  the  days  of 
their  courtship  ;  and  then  with  mutual  unspoken  consent 
they  knelt  in  prayer  for  their  sorely  tried  cousins.  Even 
the  unknown  Bertha  came  in  for  a  share  of  their  sympathy 
and  kindly  feelings. 

"  I  don't  doubt  that  she  is  wayward  and  foolish,"  Mrs. 
Brant  had  said  ;  ' '  but  she  is  young  and  pretty  and  has 
talent,  and  that  kind  are  apt  to  show  their  faults  more  than 
the  humdrum  kind  that  nobody  pays  much  attention  to. 
At  any  rate  I'm  not  going  to  take  a  spite  at  her  at  the  bid- 
ding of  any  such  creature  as  this  Mr.  Hamilton,"  znd  their 


HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES  191 

petitions  for  her  that  she  might  have  the  divine  protection 
and  guidance  were  as  earnest  as  for  the  members  of  the 
family  who  had  shown  them  daily  kindness. 

Bertha  stood  more  sorely  in  need  of  their  prayers  than 
they  could  see,  for  her  willfulness  was  leading  her  into  a 
false  position  to  which,  in  her  innocence,  she  was  totally 
blind.  Her  eagerness  to  assist  Kate  in  her  efforts  to  keep 
Mark  out  of  harm's  way,  made  her  far  less  careful  than  she 
would  have  been  had  she  had  no  such  apparently  harmless 
motive  for  her  association  with  him.  She  allowed  him  to 
walk  home  with  her  frequently  when  she  met  him  on  the 
street,  and  she  also  went  to  visit  Kate  much  oftener  than 
her  aunt  approved. 

Miss  Clive  spoke  to  her  seriously  about  the  matter,  but 
Bertha  only  answered  rather  indignantly  that  she  was  acting 
from  the  best  of  motives  and  was  sure  that  her  mother 
would  not  disapprove. 

' '  Then,  my  dear,  bring  me  your  mother' s  own  assur- 
ance that  she  approves,"  said  Miss  Clive. 

"That  is  easily  done,  for  I  am  going  out  there  to-day," 
said  Bertha  lightly.  "Now,  auntie  dear,  don't  look  so 
solemn.  As  I  told  Mortimer  when  he  began  to  preach  to 
me,  what  good  is  our  Christianity  if  we  must  be  so  busy 
keeping  our  own  skirts  out  of  the  dust  of  suspicion  that  we 
can' t  lend  a  helping  hand  to  a  friend  ? ' ' 

"God  forbid  that  we  should  be  so  selfish,"  replied  Aunt 
Rachel  in  earnest  tones  that  contrasted  strongly  with 
Bertha's  petulant  and  almost  flippant  manner.  "But, 
dear  child,  I  must  repeat  what  I  have  said  before:  we  can't 
help  others  to  do  right  if  we  are  careless  about  ourselves. 
The  more  I  desire  to  give  aid,  the  closer  I  must  live  to  the 
one  strong  Helper  whose  arm  can  never  fail.  The  more  I 
desire  to  teach  others,  the  more  diligently  I  must  study  that 


THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

my  own  lessons  may  be  learned  aright.  Bertha  dear,  I 
fear  that  it  is  your  own  amusement  that  is  really  what  urges 
you  on  to  companionship  with  those  whom  you  knew  that 
your  mother  did  not  desire  as  your  intimate  companions. 
You  have  no  time  for  quiet  thought  and  you  go  from  church 
to  church  on  the  Sundays,  simply  to  hear  the  finest  music. 
Now  you  are  letting  yourself  be  drawn  into  constant  com- 
panionship with  young  Mr.  Willoughby.  He  walked  home 
with  you  from  Mrs.  Davenant's  yesterday  morning,  and  he 
and  Kate  came  in  again  in  the  evening.  Don' t  you  see 
that  all  this  will  give  rise  to  comments  ? ' ' 

' '  I  never  listen  to  gossip, ' '  said  Bertha,  ' '  and  I  don' t 
think  that  people  will  dare  to  bring  any  to  me." 

"You  foolish  child,"  said  her  aunt,  looking  fondly  at 
the  pretty  face  that  was  now  flushed  with  indignant  pride; 
"  I  am  not  speaking  of  what  people  will  say  to  you,  but  of 
what  they  will  say  about  you." 

"Well,  anybody  who  knows  me  knows  that  I  don't  care 
one  snap  for  Mark  Willoughby' s  attentions,"  exclaimed 
Bertha,  breaking  into  a  merry  laugh.  ' '  Mortimer  has 
twice  his  sense  and  steadiness.  No,  no,  Mr.  Mark  Wil- 
loughby must  be  content  to  seek  admiration  from  girls  who 
have  not  as  good  a  brother  as  mine.  He  can't  stand  the 
comparison.  Now  I  can't  talk  any  more  or  I  shall  be  late 
for  Myrtle' s  lesson. ' '  With  a  saucy  nod,  Bertha  kissed  her 
aunt's  perplexed  face  and  vanished. 

"I  wish  that  she  would  give  a  little  more  time  and  sym- 
pathy to  her  own  brother,"  sighed  her  aunt  "She  ad- 
mires him  so  much  that  she  does  not  even  see  when  he  is 
bothered.  Well,  it  is  a  comfort  to  think  that  they  will  both 
have  a  chance  to  talk  over  everything  with  their  mother  to- 
night" 

Even  as  the  words  formed  themselves  in  her  mind,  Miss 


HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES  193 

Halsey  entered  the  room  holding  out  to  her  a  telegram. 
She  tore  it  open  nervously,  for  in  her  quiet  life  she  was 
little  used  to  telegrams,  and  she  read  : 

Helen  sick  Possibly  contagious.  •«  Do  not  let  Bertha 
come  now. 

"Poor  child,  poor  child  !"  exclaimed  the  kind-hearted 
little  aunt  "She  will  feel  dreadfully  worried  and  anxious. 
I  must  try  to  avoid  startling  her  with  the  news.'1 

Meanwhile  Bertha  was  gayly  pursuing  her  way  to  Mr. 
Davenant's.  It  was  early  when  she  arrived,  and  Mrs. 
Davenant  came  into  the  room  with  Myrtle  and  stopped  for 
a  little  chat  Myrtle  was  fully  recovered  from  even  the 
most  remote  effects  of  her  fall,  but  Mrs.  Davenant' s  mind 
still  ran  on  the  danger  and  the  wonderful  escape  of  her 
darling,  and  she  mentioned  that  she  wished  to  thank  in 
person  the  gentleman  who  had  caught  Myrtle  from  under 
the  wheels. 

"  Myrtle  does  not  know  his  name.  She  was  too  confused 
to  catch  it,  but  maybe  you  can  tell  me  who  it  is, ' '  she  said 
to  Bertha.  "  Describe  him,  Myrtle  dear." 

The  child' s  description,  however,  gave  no  clue  to  Bertha, 
who  had  never  seen  Mr.  Brant,  but  she  said,  ' '  Mortimer 
must  know,  and  I  will  ask  him." 

Mrs.  Davenant  thanked  her  and  the  lesson  went  on  un- 
interrupted by  any  more  talk  about  outside  matters  ;  but 
when  it  was  over,  Mrs.  Davenant  came  into  the  room  again 
and  this  time  the  musical  evenings  that  Kate  Willoughby 
was  arranging  were  spoken  of. 

"  I  fear  that  Myrtle  is  too  young,  and  I  am  too  old  to  be 
classed  among  Kate' s  young  people,"  said  Mrs.  Davenant 
merrily.  "  I  think  I  must  tell  her  that  I  claim  the  post  of 

N 


194  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

chaperon,  for  I  am  sure  the  music  will  be  very  enjoyable. 
She  and  Mark  have  excellent  taste  in  musical  matters.  In 
fact  I  think  that  you  must  find  them  both  quite  congenial 
spirits,"  she  added. 

Whether  it  was  the  tone,  or  whether  it  was  a  slightly  in- 
quiring glance,  Bertha  could  not  tell,  but  something  in 
Mrs.  Davenant'  s  speech  made  her  recall  her  aunt' s  warning 
with  an  uncomfortable  flush.  Mrs.  Davenant  noticed  the 
flush  and  instantly  went  on  to  make  inquiries  about  another 
young  lady  who  was  to  participate.  She  was  far  too  kindly 
and  too  courteous  to  wish  to  embarrass  the  girl,  but  she  had 
heard  comments  on  the  intimacy  between  the  Willoughbys 
and  the  Winsteads  and  she  drew  her  own  inferences  from 
Bertha's  blush. 

The  girl  herself  was  vexed  with  her  own  stupidity,  and  it 
did  not  mend  matters  that  before  she  had  gone  a  block 
from  Mr.  Davenant' s  door  she  met  Mark  Willoughby  him- 
self. But  this  time  his  manner  was  preoccupied  and  he 
soon  excused  himself  on  the  plea  of  business  that  might 
take  him  out  of  town  for  a  short  time. 

"I  am  going  to  be  so  greedy  as  to  ask  you  to  save  the 
'Moonlight  Sonata'  till  my  return,"  he  said,  making  an 
effort  to  throw  off  his  preoccupation.  ' '  I  shall  be  back  in 
time  for  the  second  miisicale." 

Bertha  promised,  and  was  not  at  all  sorry  to  see  him  lift 
his  hat  and  turn  down  another  street,  leaving  her  to  pursue 
her  way  home  unattended.  When  she  entered  her  aunt' s 
room  she  noticed  at  once  the  anxious  expression  with  which 
Miss  Rachel  greeted  her,  and  her  quick  eye  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  telegraphic  envelope,  so  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  to  let  her  see  the  message. 

She  turned  very  pale  as  she  read  it. 

"Auntie,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  must  go;  I  am  not  a  baby 


"'Auntie,'  she  exclaimed,  'I  must  go.'" 
The  Mcrrivale  Will.  Page  194. 


HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES  195 

to  catch  all  childish  ailments,  and  poor  mamma  must  need 
pie  dreadfully." 

"  I  think,  dear,  that  it  would  only  add  to  her  anxiety  if 
you  went  in  disobedience  to  her  express  wish,"  said  her 
aunt  gently.  ' '  Wait  till  to-morrow.  We  shall  no  doubt 
have  a  letter  then,  and  very  likely  we  shall  have  much  bet- 
ter news." 

For  a  time  Bertha  was  inclined  to  reject  all  her  aunt's 
kind  advice;  but  Miss  Halsey  happened  to  come  in,  and 
she  remarked  in  her  homely,  sensible  way: 

' '  For  the  land' s  sake,  don' t  go  worrying  yourself  into  a 
fever  when  it  may  be  only  chicken-pox.  If  you  took  that, 
though  it's  nothing  to  have,  it  would  upset  all  your  lessons; 
for  none  of  your  pupils  would  want  you  bringing  it  to  them. 
Your  mother  is  a  wise  woman,  and  you  just  wait  till  she 
sends  you  word  to  come." 

The  idea  of  running  serious  risk  to  bring  help  to  her 
mother  and  Helen  had  seemed  attractive  to  Bertha,  but  the 
thought  of  getting  her  face  covered  with  ugly  spots  that 
were  not  in  the  least  dangerous,  lessened  her  ardor  and  she 
consented  to  follow  her  aunt' s  advice. 

Bertha  had  to  go  in  the  afternoon  to  give  another  lesson, 
and  when  she  returned  Mortimer  came  home.  He  looked 
very  weary  and  depressed,  and  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  the 
telegram  he  picked  up  his  hat  to  hurry  to  the  station. 

' '  I  believe  that  I  have  had  all  the  diseases  that  children 
are  expected  to  catch, ' '  he  said,  ' '  so  there  is  no  danger  in 
my  going  out  to  find  out  exactly  what  is  the  matter.  Don't 
be  alarmed  if  I  am  late  in  getting  home,  as  I  have  to  stop 
and  see  Mark  Willoughby  when  I  come  back  from  Briarley." 

"  He  is  not  in  town,"  remarked  Bertha. 

' '  How  do  you  know  that  ? ' '  asked  Mortimer  sharply. 

"  I  saw  him  this  morning,  and  he  said  that  he  could  not 


196  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

be  at  the  musicale  next  Tuesday,  because  he  was  going  out 
of  town  on  business,"  replied  Bertha,  % 

Mortimer  flung  down  his  hat  with  a  whistle  of  dismay. 

"There  is  some  fate  about  it  ! "  he  exclaimed  bitterly. 
"  I  can' t  get  hold  of  Mark  just  when  I  want  so  much  to  see 
him." 

"I  wish  I  had  known,"  said  Bertha.  "I  could  have 
told  him  that  you  were  looking  for  him  ;  but  you  did  not 
tell  me.  You  ought  not  to  be  so  reserved  with  me." 

Mortimer  made  no  reply,  but  picked  up  his  hat  again. 

"Where  are  you  going  now  ?"  asked  Bertha  in  an  in- 
jured tone. 

' '  Out  to  see  mother  and  find  out  what' s  wrong  with 
Helen,"  he  answered  shortly,  and  left  the  room. 

For  a  little  while  after  he  left  Bertha  felt  uncomfortable 
and  cross.  People  did  not  seem  to  approve  of  her  ;  and  it 
was  very  necessary  to  her  happiness  that  she  should  be 
not  only  approved  of,  but  admired 

"I'll  go  to  church  with  auntie  on  Sunday,"  she  thought, 
as  she  went  slowly  to  her  own  room ;  • '  that  will  please  her, ' ' 
and  a  bright  idea  suddenly  struck  her  as  she  pondered  over 
Mortimer's  unusual  depression.  "Poor  boy,  his  necktie 
looked  quite  shabby,  and  I  can  set  that  right  at  all  events, 
even  if  I  can't  get  hold  of  Mark  Willoughby  for  him." 
Pleased  with  this  thought,  she  rummaged  out  her  pieces  of 
silk  and  set  to  work. 

It  really  gratified  Bertha  to  please  others,  and  she  was 
willing  to  take  trouble  to  accomplish  it,  but  she  often  did 
not  have  the  discernment  to  get  at  the  root  of  the  matter. 
Miss  Clive's  desire  for  her  dearly  loved  niece  went  deeper 
than  the  mere  question  of  one  morning's  attendance  at 
church  "to  please  her,"  and  Mortimer's  anxieties  were  far 
beyond  the  power  of  a  new  necktie  to  alleviate.  But  when 


HELEN'S  ILLNESS  INTERFERES  197 

Bertha  carried  her  work  downstairs  and  sat  chatting  with 
bright  affectionate  speech  and  manners,  while  her  deft  fin- 
ger stitched  away  at  the  pretty  trifle  for  her  brother,  it  was 
no  wonder  that  the  old  ladies  were  charmed,  and  Bertha 
herself  began  to  feel  more  satisfied  with  herself. 


CHAPTER   XIX 
HAMILTON'S  MISCHIEF-MAKING 

MR.  HAMILTON,  when  he  left  Merrivale  Farm,  was 
in  a  very  unamiable  frame  of  mind.  Mr.  Brant, 
when  he  assured  his  wife  that  she  need  not  fear  any  fur- 
ther move  on  the  part  of  that  man,  had  failed  to  do  justice 
either  to  the  inventive  faculties  or  the  spite  of  the  man  in 
question.  Robert  Hamilton  had  made  repeated  efforts  to 
work  himself  into  the  favor  of  Mr.  Palmer,  and  his  total 
lack  of  success  he  attributed  solely  to  the  counter  influence 
of  Mortimer  Winstead.  The  truth  was  that  Mr.  Palmer 
had  never  mentioned  the  man  nor  asked  his  opinion  of 
him  ;  but  Hamilton  was  possessed  of  an  overweening  con- 
ceit that  made  him  very  slow  to  believe  that  any  one  might 
instinctively  dislike  or  distrust  him.  Mortimer  had  only 
seen  Hamilton  once  since  his  mother's  warning,  and  then 
he  had  treated  him  with  a  cold  politeness  that  annoyed 
Hamilton  extremely,  and  he  now  returned  to  town  firmly 
convinced  that  Mortimer  had  in  some  way  forestalled  him 
and  had  set  Mrs.  Brant  against  him. 

"But  I'll  be  even  with  you  yet,  my  boy,"  he  muttered. 
' '  You  are  not  in  Mr.  Palmer' s  good  graces  now,  and  you 
will  find  yourself  lower  yet  before  I  have  done  with  you." 

It  was  raining  when  he  reached  town,  and  he  walked 
along  the  street  feeling  in  very  ill  humor  with  himself  and 
everything  about  him.  Suddenly  his  attention  was  attracted 
to  a  lady  and  gentleman  who  were  coming  toward  him. 
The  umbrella  that  the  gentleman  held  low  to  protect  his 
198 


HAMILTON'S  MISCHIEF-MAKING  199 

companion  from  the  rain  hid  their  faces,  but  something  in 
the  gait  and  figure  of  the  young  man  suggested  to  him 
Mark  Willoughby. 

Hamilton  turned  aside  to  look  into  a  shop  window,  hop- 
ing thus  to  get  a  good  look  at  them  as  they  passed,  without 
being  himself  observed.  It  was,  as  he  had  expected,  Mark 
Willoughby,  and  his  companion  was  a  very  pretty  young 
girl.  They  seemed  to  be  engaged  in  earnest  conversation, 
but  in  spite  of  his  utmost  endeavors,  Hamilton  could  not 
catch  what  they  were  saying,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of 
continuing  his  own  way  down  the  street  when  he  noticed 
that  they  had  paused,  and  in  another  moment  they  came 
slowly  back  again.  Their  object  was  soon  apparent,  for 
Mark  stopped  a  street  car  that  was  coming  toward  them, 
and  helped  his  companion  on  board  it.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, follow  her  himself,  but  came  back  to  the  sidewalk. 
Seeing  him  alone,  Mr.  Hamilton  now  went  forward  and 
touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Hello!  you  here  ?"  said  Mark  with  a  slight  frown. 

"Yes,  and  I  have  some  news  for  you,"  replied  Hamilton. 

• '  I  hope  it  is  good  news  this  time, ' '  said  Mark  shortly. 

"Come,  come,  man  alive,  don't  be  so  surly  !"  exclaimed 
Hamilton.  "  I  want  to  get  to  a  dry  place  where  I  can  talk 
to  you  without  getting  my  death  of  cold.  Come  with  me 
to  Jim  Benton's  office." 

With  a  half-unwilling  grunt  Mark  followed  him  as  he 
turned  into  a  less-frequented  street,  and  they  soon  reached 
the  office  in  question,  which  belonged  to  one  of  Hamilton's 
friends.  Nodding  to  his  friend  as  he  entered,  Hamilton 
led  the  way  to  a  corner  where  they  were  out  of  sight  for 
any  one  entering  the  door,  and  could  talk  undisturbed. 
Here  he  proceeded  to  relate  to  Mark  the  story  that  he  had 
already  told  Mrs.  Brant  about  Mortimer  Winstead. 


2OO  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

"There  is  some  mistake  about  it,"  said  Mark  decidedly. 
"That  fellow  is  perfectly  honest.  If  Palmer  &  Daven- 
ant  have  pitched  on  him  as  the  thief,  they  are  barking  up 
the  wrong  tree,  and  no  mistake. ' ' 

"Well  I  don' t  know  anything  about  that,"  said  Hamilton 
indifferently.  ' '  I  only  look  at  the  thing  from  your  stand- 
point, and  I  see  this :  if  Winstead  goes  out,  you  are  the  one 
who  ought  to  go  in. ' ' 

"  Is  that  your  good  news  ?"  exclaimed  Mark  hotly.  "So 
you  think  that  I  would  be  sneak  enough  to  try  to  take  Win- 
stead' s  position  from  him.  Now  just  let  me  tell  you,  that 
sort  of  dirty  work  may  suit  you,  but  it  is  not  my  way. ' ' 

He  spoke  so  contemptuously  that  Hamilton  flushed,  but 
quickly  recovering  his  usual  imperturbability  said  coldly  : 

"You  have  no  control  over  Winstead' s  affairs.  If  Mr. 
Palmer  chooses  to  turn  him  out  and  to  put  somebody  else  in 
the  place,  you  can' t  prevent  it,  I  thought,  as  soon  as  I 
heard  that  this  place  would  be  vacant  soon,  that  it  would  be 
a  good  chance  for  you.  I  did  not  know  but  your  father 
would  like  the  idea  of  getting  you  in  there.  Of  course  I 
can  see  that  your  father  and  Palmer  &  Davenant  don't 
care  anything  about  me,  in  fact  would  rather  not  see  me 
around;  so  I  stopped  now  just  to  tell  you  of  this  and  to  say 
that  if  you  like  to  keep  quiet  about  me  I  am  willing  to  keep 
out  of  your  way.  But  then  if  you  are  so  well  fixed  that  you 
don' t  care  about  the  place,  all  right.  It  will  be  a  good  open- 
ing for  some  other  fellow." 

He  rose  as  he  spoke,  but  Mark  stopped  him. 

"You  need  not  be  in  such  a  hurry,"  he  said  irritably. 
"  You  know  well  enough  that  I  do  want  the  place  badly.  It 
would  be  just  the  thing  for  me;  and  so  much  better  a  firm 
than  Harvey  &  Blake  that  the  old  gentleman  would  take 
me  to  his  bosom  right  away  if  he  thought  that  I  had  got  it" 


HAMILTON  S    MISCHIEF-MAKING  2OI 

"  It  all  rests  with  yourself,"  said  Hamilton,  shrugging  his 
shoulders  carelessly.  "  By  the  way,  who  is  that  uncommonly 
pretty  girl  I  saw  you  walking  home  with  last  evening  ? ' ' 

' '  Are  you  setting  out  to  spy  upon  me  ? ' '  demanded  Mark 
fiercely. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  not  a  bit  of  it;  it  would  not  be  worth  my 
while.  But  I  don' t  suppose  that  you  monopolize  the  public 
streets,"  retorted  Hamilton  coolly.  Then  suddenly  chang- 
ing to  a  more  genial  tone  he  exclaimed :  • '  See  here,  what 
is  up  ?  Here  I  come  to  do  you  a  good  turn,  and  I  find  you 
as  cross  as  a  bear  with  a  sore  head.  If  you  are  afraid  of 
injuring  your  chances  with  Winstead's  sister,  if  you  take  the 
place  that  her  brother  is  fired  out  of,  why  just  say  so  and  let 
it  alone." 

Mark  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  "Not  much,"  he  said 
contemptuously.  ' '  What  ever  put  that  notion  into  your 
head?" 

"Oh,  well,  you  go  about  with  her  a  good  deal,  if  it  is  true 
that  the  girl  I  saw  you  walking  with  last  evening  was  Win- 
stead' s  sister.  I  am  only  repeating  what  I  hear  said,"  re- 
turned Hamilton  indifferently.  "  She  is  a  pretty  girl  and 
no  mistake." 

"  Not  my  style  though,"  said  Mark,  turning  down  the 
corners  of  his  mouth  and  tilting  back  his  chair. 

"Well,  no.  I  prefer  dark  eyes  and  a  little  more  'go '  my- 
self," replied  Hamilton  in  the  same  careless  tone.  "For 
instance,  the  little  beauty  that  you  put  on  the  car  just  before 
I  spoke  to  you." 

' '  Will  you  hold  your  tongue  ?  or  am  I  going  to  have  to 
punch  your  head  to  teach  you  manners  ? ' '  growled  Mark, 
bringing  down  his  chair  on  all  four  feet,  and  leaning  toward 
Hamilton  with  set  mouth  and  an  angry  gleam  in  his  eyes. 

Hamilton  jumped  hastily  to  his  feet;  the  wrathful  face 


202  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

was  too  near  his  own,  and  a  clenched  hand  looked  danger- 
ous. 

' '  Good-bye ;  I  see  you  are  not  in  the  mood  for  any  rational 
conversation,"  he  said  stiffly,  trying  to  conceal  that  his 
sudden  movement  was  the  result  of  fright 

Mark  said  nothing  and  Hamilton  after  going  a  step  or  two 
farther  returned. 

' '  I  shall  be  obliged  to  deposit  that  check  you  gave  me, 
as  I  am  going  out  of  town.  I  suppose  you  have  the  funds 
in  bank  to  meet  it  now,"  he  said.  His  tone  was  cool  and 
careless,  but  there  was  a  ring  of  spite  in  it  and  he  watched 
Mark  closely. 

"No,  I  haven't,"  retorted  the  younger  man.  -'But 
deposit  it  if  you  like.  You  can  pay  the  protest  charges  and 
I'll  face  the  row  with  the  old  man  when  he  hears  of  it." 

"Come,  come,  be  reasonable,  old  fellow,"  said  Hamilton, 
resuming  his  friendly  tone.  ' '  You  and  I  don' t  want  to 
fight.  It  will  only  hurt  us  both,  and  there  is  nothing  to  be 
gained  by  it.  If  we  hang  together  we  shall  get  out  of  all  the 
difficulties. " 

' '  Then  tell  me  in  three  words  what  you  want,  and  be 
done  with  it,"  said  Mark  sulkily.  "But  mind,  I  am  not 
going  to  oust  Winstead  to  please  you  or  any  other  man." 

' '  How  you  harp  on  that  string  !  Why,  man,  he  is  out 
already.  I  tell  you,  at  this  very  moment  he  is  cudgeling 
his  brains  to  find  out  what  to  take  to  next,"  said  Hamilton 
impatiently. 

"  How  do  you  know  that?"  asked  Mark  uneasily. 

"Never  you  mind  how,  but  remember  this,  I  know  it," 
replied  his  companion  impressively.  "  Now  the  question 
is,  are  you  going  to  take  the  good  that  the  gods  grant  you 
and  quietly  slip  into  this  vacant  place  ?  If  you  wish  to  do  so 
then  just  remember  this:  from  the  time  that  you  go  out  of 


HAMILTON'S  MISCHIEF-MAKING  203 

that  door  there,  I  forget  that  I  have  seen  you  or  held  any 
communication  with  you  for — suppose  we  say  six  weeks  or 
two  months.  No  one  has  seen  us  together  in  that  time 
except  Benton  here  and  others  who  are  safe,  and  of  course 
you  are  equally  sure  that  you  have  had  no  communication 
with  me  during  that  time." 

"  How  about  that  checlc  ?"    asked  Mark  gloomily. 

'  •  That  check  may  stay  where  it  is.  With  a  regular 
salary  coming  in  you  can  soon  pay  it  off,  and  I  would  not 
mind  trusting  you  a  little  longer.  Mr.  Palmer  meant  to 
raise  Winstead's  salary,  and  unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken 
he  will  raise  for  you, "said  Hamilton  speaking  more  cheer- 
fully as  he  noted  that  Mark  was  nibbling  the  bait.  "  Later 
on,  with  your  father's  influence  to  back  you,  there  is  no 
knowing  how  high  you  may  rise.  Mr.  Davenant  is  no 
good  as  a  man  of  business  and  Mr.  Palmer  will  soon  find 
that  he  needs  a  live,  active  young  man  to  be  in  with  him. 
Now  do  you  agree  to  this?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Mark  doubtfully. 

•  •  And  will  you  promise  to  hold  to  it  that  you  have  had 
no  communication  with  me,  direct  or  indirect,  for  two 
months  past?  I  must  be  sure  of  that,"  said  Hamilton  with 
a  short  laugh,  "  for  I'm  not  going  to  help  you  out  by  vow- 
ing that  I  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  you,  unless  you  hold 
up  your  end  of  the  line." 

"I  understand;  I  promise,"  said  Mark  impatiently,  and 
then  he  picked  up  his  hat  and  umbrella  and  without  another 
word  went  out 

"  Now  I  have  got  you,  my  fine  fellow,"  muttered  Ham- 
ilton; "but  I  must  work  the  mine  quickly  or  I  shall  be 
caught  yet  Winstead  must  get  his  dismissal  within  twenty- 
four  hours." 

He  also  went  out,  but  he  took  his  way  by  a  rather  circuit- 


2O4  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

ous  route  to  Mr.  Palmer' s  office.  It  was  then  close  upon 
twelve  o'clock,  and  Mortimer  was  just  rising  from  his  desk 
to  go  out  to  lunch.  Hamilton,  with  perfect  composure,  asked 
if  Mr.  Palmer  was  in  and  said  that  he  wished  to  have  a  few 
minutes'  private  conversation  with  him.  Mr.  Palmer,  who 
was  just  coming  out  of  the  inner  office,  paused,  feeling 
strongly  inclined  to  say  that  he  had  an  engagement  and 
could  not  wait;  but  shrewdly  guessing  that  it  would  only 
bring  the  man  back  again  later  on,  he  turned  back  and  sat 
down.  Hamilton  followed  him  and  closed  the  door  be- 
tween the  offices.  He  noted  with  satisfaction  that  the  sliding 
window  was  closed  also.  Then  he  began  glibly: 

' '  I  understand,  Mr.  Palmer,  that  you  have  recently 
missed  a  small  sum  of  money  and  I  thought  that  you  would 
doubtless  be  glad  to  get  hold  of  any  clue  that  might  help 
you  to  discover  the  thief." 

' '  Which  means  to  say  that  you  want  to  know  what  I  will 
pay  you  for  some  information  that  you  think  you  have  got," 
interrupted  Mr.  Palmer  curtly.  ' '  Well,  sir ' ' 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  interposed  Hamilton  with  all  the 
dignity  that  he  could  assume,  "I  had  no  intention  of  driv- 
ing a  bargain,  and  I  have  not  heard  that  you  have  offered 
any  reward  for  the  conviction  of  the  thief.  I  simply  heard 
that  you  were  annoyed  at  the  difficulty  of  solving  this  mys- 
tery, and  therefore  I  thought  it  only  honorable  to  give  you 
any  clue  that  might  assist  you.  What  I  have  to  show  you 
may  really  be  of  no  value.  That  is  for  you  to  decide. ' ' 

Hamilton  was  undoubtedly  clever  in  understanding  how 
to  take  different  men  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  If 
he  had  tried  to  impress  Mr.  Palmer  with  the  importance  of 
the  information  that  he  had  to  give,  that  gentleman  would 
in  all  probability  have  refused  even  to  listen  to  him,  con- 
sidering that  it  was  a  mere  scheme  to  extort  money  ;  but  now 


HAMILTON'S  MISCHIEF-MAKING  205 

Mr.  Palmer  hesitated.  He  would  really  have  been  willing 
to  give  a  good  sum  for  positive  information  that  would  re- 
move the  ugly  doubt  that  would  intrude  into  his  mind  con- 
cerning Mortimer' s  share  in  the  loss  of  the  fifty-dollar  note. 
Hamilton  observed  his  hesitation  and  continued  : 

' '  I  merely  intended  to  show  you  a  note  that  was  sent  to 
me  and  to  tell  you  the  circumstances  under  which  I  received 
it "  As  he  spoke  he  pulled  out  of  his  pocket  a  crumpled 
half-sheet  of  paper  which  he  laid  upon  the  desk. 

Mr.  Palmer  picked  it  up  and  read  : 

I  can  fix  it.  Come  to  me  this  evening  and  I  can  let  you 
have  the  money. 

March  31,  1880.  M.  W. 

The  words  were  very  hastily  scribbled,  but  the  handwrit- 
ing was  unmistakably  Mortimer  Winstead'  s,  and  the  paper 
bore  the  heading  of  Palmer  &  Davenant'  s  firm. 

' '  Well,  what  of  this  ? ' '  asked  Mr.  Palmer  harshly. 

"That  was  given  to  me  on  the  last  day  of  March  by  Mor- 
timer Winstead' s  young  brother, "  said  Mr.  Hamilton.  "I 
had  lent  him  money  on  his  note  and  I  reminded  him  that 
it  was  due  on  the  thirty-first  of  March,  but  he  said  that  he 
could  not  pay  it.  Yet  that  morning  he  sent  me  this  note. 
Certainly,"  continued  Hamilton,  "I  could  not  well  afford 
to  be  out  of  a  hundred  dollars  and  I  was  glad  enough  to  find 
that  he  could  pay  it" 

"You  received  that  amount  from  Mortimer  Winstead  the 
last  day  of  March  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Palmer. 

"Yes,"  replied  Hamilton;  "and  of  course  I  returned 
the  note  to  him." 

"Stop  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Palmer,  and  rising  he 
opened  the  door  and  looked  out  as  if  seeking  Mortimer,  but 
the  stool  before  his  desk  was  vacant  ;  he  had  already  gone 
to  his  lunch. 


2O6  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

' '  Mr.  Winstead  avoided  speaking  to  me  in  the  presence 
of  his  friends,"  remarked  Hamilton.  "I  think  that  he  did 
not  wish  to  have  it  known  that  he  had  borrowed  of  me. ' ' 

"Will  you  leave  this  with  me?"  asked  Mr.  Palmer, 
taking  no  notice  of  this  remark,  and  tapping  the  paper  that 
he  still  held  in  his  hand. 

"Certainly,"  replied  Hamilton.  "It  is  of  no  conse- 
quence to  me  now  that  I  am  paid.  I  brought  it  to  you  to 
make  what  use  you  pleased  of  it.  But  I  think  that  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  Mr.  Winstead  will  deny  that  he  sent  it  to  me, 
as  he  seemed  always  inclined  to  hide  his  dealings  with  me." 

Mr.  Palmer  only  bowed.  He  could  not  bring  himself  to 
say  anything  to  a  man  he  so  thoroughly  distrusted  and  dis- 
liked ;  but  the  case  did  look  black  against  Mortimer  and  he 
felt  sore  and  angry. 

Hamilton  however  was  well  satisfied  with  his  morning's 
work. 

' '  I  began  with  a  failure  but  I  have  ended  with  a  success 
here, ' '  he  muttered  as  he  went  out  again  into  the  street. 
' '  The  poison  will  work  and  another  twenty-four  hours  will 
see  Winstead  out  of  that  office.  But  it  is  hard  luck  that  I 
could  not  get  anything  for  the  information.  If  I  had  been  as 
stupid  as  some  men  I  know,  I  would  have  tried  it  and  made 
a  dead  failure,  for  he  would  never  have  listened  to  a  word. 
Now  the  question  is  how  to  raise  enough  to  keep  me  going 
until  I  can  strike  Mark  for  more  cash." 


CHAPTER  XX 

MORE    MYSTERY 

MR.  PALMER  had  not  yet  decided  what  course  to  pur- 
sue when  Mortimer  returned  to  the  office.  He  de- 
layed questioning  Mortimer  ;  but  while  he  was  ready  to  call 
Hamilton  a  liar  he  could  not  help  thinking  how  many  temp- 
tations there  were  to  assail  a  young  man  fresh  from  country 
life  and  to  lead  him  into  extravagance,  and  also  how  help- 
less he  was  likely  to  be  in  the  hands  of  a  man  like  Hamil- 
ton. At  last  when  it  was  near  the  time  for  leaving  the 
office,  he  sauntered  out  to  Mortimer' s  desk. 

' '  By  the  way, ' '  he  said  pleasantly,  ' '  do  you  know  that 
man  Hamilton  who  has  been  running  in  lately  to  see  me  ?" 

"I  have  seen  him  here,  sir,"  replied  Mortimer. 

"I  don't  think  much  of  the  man,"  said  Mr.  Palmer. 
"  Has  he  been  trying  to  talk  you  into  any  of  his  schemes  ?" 

"  No,  sir  ;  I  have  seen  him  only  when  he  came  here  in- 
quiring for  you,  and  I  was  too  busy  to  pay  much  attention 
to  him,"  replied  the  young  man. 

"You  had  not  met  him  at  any  other  times  then  ?"  asked 
Mr.  Palmer. 

"I  think  that  he  walked  up  to  the  station  with  me  one 
day,  when  he  happened  to  be  leaving  the  office  at  the  same 
time  that  I  did,"  replied  Mortimer,  flushing  a  little  under 
Mr.  Palmer' s  keen  look  and  repeated  questioning.  • '  But 
I  did  not  like  him  any  better  than  you  do,  sir." 

"Ah,  then  you  did  not  have  any  dealings  with  him," 
said  Mr.  Palmer. 

207 


2O8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"None  whatever,"  replied  Mortimer  confidently. 

' '  Is  that  your  writing  ? ' '  asked  his  employer,  suddenly 
drawing  out  the  sheet  of  paper  that  Hamilton  had  left  with 
him. 

Mortimer  flushed  crimson,  but  he  answered  firmly  : 

"Yes,  sir." 

' '  Did  you  send  it  to  Hamilton  ? ' '  asked  Mr.  Palmer. 

' '  No,  sir, ' '  replied  Mortimer. 

• '  To  whom  did  you  send  it  ? "  queried  the  gentleman. 

For  a  moment  Mortimer  hesitated,  then  he  replied  per- 
fectly courteously  :  "I  would  rather  not  tell  you,  sir." 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  rejoined  Mr.  Palmer,  and  he  thrust  the 
paper  back  in  his  pocket  and  went  out,  leaving  Mortimer 
in  a  very  uncomfortable  state  of  doubt  as  to  what  it  all  could 
mean. 

Mr.  Palmer  went  straight  to  Mr.  Lindsay's  office.  Evi- 
dently he  had  been  there  before,  for  as  soon  as  he  entered 
Mr.  Lindsay,  who  was  reaching  for  his  hat  and  coat,  sat 
down  again,  asking  : 

"  Have  you  found  the  bill  under  your  ledgers  or  tucked 
into  some  stray  envelope  ? ' ' 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Palmer  ;  "but  a  man  has  been  in  to- 
day to  see  me  about  the  rriatter,  the  last  man  that  I  should 
have  expected  to  see.  It  was  Robert  Hamilton  himself. 
Now  I  have  come  to  ask  you  what  Mr.  Mark  Willoughby 
has  to  say.  Have  you  seen  him  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay.  "I  met  him  in  the  street 
about  two  o'clock.  It  is  hard  to  find  him,  now  that  he  has 
no  settled  business." 

' '  Well,  what  did  he  say  ? ' '  asked  Mr.  Palmer  impa- 
tiently. 

"  I  asked  him  to  whom  he  sent  Jack  Winstead  with  a 
note,  and  he  denied  point-blank  that  he  had  sent  him  to 


MORE    MYSTERY  '    2O9 

anybody.     I  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  Hamilton  lately,  and 
he  said  no,  not  for  a  long  time,"  replied  Mr.  Lindsay. 

"I  had  better  see  him  myself,"  said  Mr.  Palmer  rising. 
"  Kate  can  tell  me  where  to  find  him." 

"No,  no,"  said  the  lawyer.  "He  is  out  of  town.  He 
was  on  his  way  to  the  station  when  I  met  him,  and  he  was 
in  such  a  hurry  to  catch  his  train  that  I  had  no  time  to 
explain  to  him  what  our  suspicions  were  ;  but  he  positively 
denied  that  he  had  written  a  note  to  anybody  that  day  ;  and 
he  also  said  that  Jack  came  in  a  tremendous  hurry  and  tore 
off  again  as  if  he  were  running  for  a  wager. ' ' 

' '  Now  I  think  of  it,  Mr.  Davenant  said  that  he  gave  the 
boy  a  quarter  for  carrying  his  message  so  quickly,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Palmer.  "That  does  not  look  as  though  he 
could  have  delayed  to  do  errands  for  anybody  else.  It  be- 
gins to  look  like  a  bad  business."  Then  he  showed  Mr. 
Lindsay  Mortimer's  note  and  repeated  to  him  what  Hamil- 
ton had  said.  ' '  I  have  no  desire  to  be  hard  upon  these  boys, 
and  I  should  be  more  than  sorry  to  be  unjust  to  them,"  he 
continued,  ' '  but  all  this  looks  very  odd,  and  to  let  any- 
thing of  this  sort  go  would  be  doing  the  whole  family  a 
poor  kindness.  Far  better  that  a  young  man  should  find 
his  first  step  in  evil  ways  a  painful  experience.  I  think 
that  Mortimer  is  in  the  main  a  good  fellow  and  I  can  see 
how  he  may  have  been  tempted  when  he  got  into  the 
clutches  of  this  man  Hamilton,  who  is,  I  am  convinced,  a 
complete  swindler  ;  but  the  best  thing  for  him  will  be  to 
pull  him  up  short  now.  Now  I  have  thought  it  all  over 
carefully  and  I  mean  to  do  just  this:  if  the  fifty  dollars  is 
returned  he  can  stay  and  no  more  will  be  said  about  it.  If 
it  is  not  repaid  he  must  leave  our  employ.  I  don't  want, 
out  of  regard  for  his  family,  to  make  any  public  scandal  ; 
but  he  must  be  made  to  smart  for  it  or  it  will  simply  be  an 

o 


2IO  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

encouragement  for  him  to  try  the  same  thing  again."  Mr. 
Palmer's  look  of  stern  decision  did  not  encourage  any  fur- 
ther words,  but  Mr.  Lindsay  hazarded  the  remark: 

' '  I  don' t  see  how  that  man' s  presence  in  the  office  can 
be  explained." 

"It  was  only  Jack  Winstead  who  saw  him,"  replied  Mr. 
Palmer  curtly,  ' '  and  the  man  or  boy  who  will  steal  will  lie 
to  hide  it." 

"At  all  events  wait  till  I  find  out  from  Mortimer  whether 
he  really  did  send  this  note  to  Hamilton,"  urged  Mr. 
Lindsay.  ' '  You  see  there  is  no  name  to  show  to  whom  it 
was  addressed." 

"I  have  already  questioned  him.  He  denies  that  he 
sent  the  note  to  Hamilton,  but  when  I  asked  him  to  whom 
it  was  sent  he  refused  to  tell  me.  I  suppose  he  was  sharp 
enough  to  suspect  that  if  he  gave  me  any  other  name  I 
would  hunt  up  that  person  and  prove  the  truth  of  his  asser- 
tion. No,  it  is  evidently  a  made-up  affair  between  those 
boys,  and  the  more  I  think  of  it  the  more  it  grates  on  me. 
You  can  tell  him  my  decision  if  you  are  going  to  see  him, 
and  tell  him  that  I  give  him  a  week  to  refund  the  money," 
and  Mr.  Palmer  rose  and  took  up  his  hat. 

"One  moment,"  urged  Mr.  Lindsay  again.  "  Have  you 
considered  that  you  will  probably  only  be  forcing  the  money 
from  his  mother  ?  If  he  paid  over  one  hundred  dollars  to 
Hamilton,  as  he  says,  Mortimer  cannot  have  anything  left. ' ' 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that  ;  but  it  must  be  done,"  repeated  Mr. 
Palmer  obstinately.  ' '  I  am  really  doing  a  kindness  to 
Mrs.  Winstead  in  making  Mortimer  feel  that  he  has  got 
himself  into  a  hole.  As  for  the  money,  he  can  repay  it  to 
her,  if  he  remains  with  us  and  reforms  his  ways.  If  not, 
he  will  get  into  worse  scrapes  that  will  cost  her  dearer  than 
this.  Mark  my  words." 


MORE    MYSTERY  211 

Mr.  Lindsay  made  no  reply,  and  Mr.  Palmer  said  good- 
evening  ;  his  portly  figure  darkened  the  narrow  doorway  for 
a  moment,  and  then  disappeared  down  the  steep  stairway. 

After  he  had  gone  Mr.  Lindsay  sat  for  a  few  moments 
tapping  the  desk  with  his  fingers  thoughtfully  ;  then  he  too 
rose  to  his  feet,  shook  himself,  looked  at  the  time,  and  went 
out  locking  the  door  after  him.  When  he  reached  the 
street  he  again  paused  a  moment  irresolutely,  and  then  in- 
stead of  turning  homeward  he  started  in  the  direction  of 
Miss  Halsey's  boarding  house.  He  had  not  gone  far  when 
he  met  the  very  man  he  was  in  search  of,  for  Mortimer 
came  around  a  corner,  hurrying  on  his  way  to  the  station. 

"Stop  a  bit,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "If  you  are  not  in  too 
big  a  hurry  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  this  Palmer- Dave- 
nant  affair." 

' '  Something  is  wrong  with  Helen  and  I  was  going  home 
to  inquire,"  said  Mortimer.  "  But  I  can  wait  over  a  train  as 
they  are  not  expecting  me." 

' '  Then  come  back  to  my  office.  That  will  be  better  than 
talking  in  the  street  or  in  your  boarding  house,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay.  Although  Mortimer  looked  worn  and  haggard, 
there  was  something  frank  and  honest  about  him  that  made 
the  little  lawyer  feel  that  it  must  be  only  that  appearances 
were  against  him. 

Mortimer  was  too  eager  to  wait  till  they  reached  the  office 
and  he  asked  as  they  walked  along: 

"  Have  you  learned  anything  ?  Have  you  found  out  who 
that  man  was  ? ' ' 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay  ;   "I  saw  Mark  Willoughby." 

"Well,  did  you  ask  him  who  the  fellow  was  that  Jack 
took  the  note  to  ?"  demanded  Mortimer  impatiently. 

"Yes;  but  he  says  that  he  sent  no  note  by  Jack,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Lindsay. 


212  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mortimer  started.  •  •  Does  Mark  say  that  ? "  he  ex- 
claimed fiercely.  "Then  Mark  Willoughby  lies." 

"Hush,  hush,"  interrupted  Mr.  Lindsay  warningly. 
"Wait  till  we  get  to  the  office  to  talk  over  this  quietly." 

' '  I  don' t  care  where  we  are  ! ' '  replied  Mortimer  angrily. 
"I  won't  listen  quietly  to  any  one  who  tells  me  that  Jack 
says  what  is  not  true.  I'  ve  known  him  all  his  life,  and  he 
was  always  as  honest  as  the  day.  I  can' t  say  as  much  for 
Mark  Willoughby,  though  I  never  till  now  thought  that  he 
would  tell  downright  lies." 

To  Mr.  Lindsay' s  great  relief,  they  were  now  at  the  door  of 
the  building  in  which  he  had  his  office  and  he  hurried  his 
indignant  young  friend  upstairs. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  when  they  were  safely  ensconced  in  the 
privacy  of  his  dingy  little  room,  ' '  I  want  you  to  listen  to  me 
quietly,"  and  he  proceeded  to  relate  to  him  what  Mr. 
Palmer  had  said.  "You  see  for  yourself  that  it  is  an  awk- 
ward tangle,  and  any  mystery  on  your  part  only  adds  to 
the  ugly  look  of  the  muddle.  If  you  have  been  doing  any- 
thing foolish  don't  hesitate  to  own  up.  And  now  I  want 
you  to  tell  me  frankly  to  whom  you  sent  that  note." 

Mortimer  had  listened  quietly  as  his  friend  had  begged 
him  to  do  ;  but  his  angry  eyes  and  tightly  set  lips  showed 
that  he  was  exercising  no  little  self-repression.  Now  he 
drew  a  long  breath  and  answered  promptly  : 

' '  Certainly  ;  I  am  not  bound  by  any  promise,  and  I  will 
tell  you.  I  sent  it  to  Mark  Willoughby." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Lindsay.  "Had  you  bor- 
rowed of  him  ? ' ' 

' '  No,  he  wanted  to  borrow  of  me, ' '  replied  Mortimer. 

Mr.  Lindsay  gave  a  low,  short  whistle.  Even  he  was 
startled  ;  it  seemed  so  preposterous  that  the  son  of  a  man 
as  rich  as  Mr.  Willoughby  should  be  supposed  to  have  any 


MORE    MYSTERY  213 

need  to  borrow  of  a  poor  clerk  in  his  uncle' s  office.  But  he 
only  asked : 

"  How  then  could  it  have  gotten  into  Hamilton's  hands  ? 
Mark  told  me  to-day  that  he  had  not  seen  Hamilton  in  the 
last  six  weeks  or  two  months. ' ' 

"You  must  ask  Mark  to  explain  that,"  said  Mortimer 
wearily,  pushing  back  the  hair  from  his  forehead. 

"  It  is  unfortunate  that  Mark  went  out  of  town  to-day,  so 
that  it  is  impossible  to  ask  him  until  he  returns,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay  drily. 

1 '  I  can' t  help  that, ' '  said  Mortimer,  who  noticed  at  once 
the  subtle  change  in  Mr.  Lindsay' s  tone.  He  was  begin- 
ning to  see  with  painful  clearness  the  difficulties  in  which 
he  had  involved  himself  ;  and  his  anger  was  now  giving 
way  to  a  dreadful  feeling  of  loneliness  and  depression  that 
made  him  long  to  be  alone  to  fight  it  out  with  himself. 

Mr.  Lindsay  sat  a  few  moments  in  deep  thought,  then  he 
turned  again  with  a  kindly  air  to  Mortimer. 

"See  here,  my  boy,"  he  said  earnestly,  "I  know  that 
young  men  will  get  into  scrapes,  even  the  best  of  them,  and 
I  want  to  help  you  out  of  this  bad  box  that  you  are  in  now. 
In  fact  everybody  wants  to  see  you  cleared." 

"No,"  said  Mortimer  harshly,  "both  Mr.  Palmer  and 
Mr.  Davenant  suspect  me.  I  can  see  it  Mr.  Davenant 
was  cut  because  I  showed  up  his  carelessness  about  the  gold 
piece,  and  Mr.  Palmer — well,  I  think  that  he  stood  by  me 
till  to-day  ;  but  I  was  not  going  to  get  Mark  into  trouble  if 
I  could  avoid  it  by  holding  my  tongue  when  he  asked  to 
whom  I  sent  the  note." 

"Yes,  I  own  that  Mr.  Palmer  thinks  that  things  look 
pretty  bad, ' '  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  ' '  But  he  does  not  want  to 
drive  you  into  a  hole  and  destroy  your  reputation.  In  fact, 
he  says  that  if  the  fifty  dollars  is  replaced,  everything  shall 


214  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

go  on  the  same  and  no  more  shall  be  said  about  it.  So 
now  I  want  you  to  confide  in  me,  and  we  will  try  to 
straighten  it  all  out  without  worrying  your  mother. ' ' 

The  kindly  tone  had  almost  upset  Mortimer  ;  but  the  in- 
formation that  Mr.  Palmer  expected  him  to  repay  the 
money  and  the  obvious  intimation  that  Mr.  Lindsay  himself 
was  prepared  to  hear  something  in  the  nature  of  a  confes- 
sion, again  aroused  his  indignation. 

"You  have  heard  all  that  I  have  to  say,"  he  replied  in  a 
voice  that  surprised  himself,  it  sounded  so  cold  in  compar- 
ison with  the  conflicting  feelings  that  raged  within  him. 
"  Now  I  must  hurry  or  I  shall  miss  the  next  train.  I'm — 
hem — much  obliged  to  you  for  all  this  information,"  and  he 
seized  his  hat  and  bolted  out  of  the  room,  glad  of  any  ex- 
cuse to  get  out  into  the  fresh  air  of  the  street,  where  the 
rain  was  again  falling  and  a  keen  wind  was  rising. 

Mr.  Lindsay  beat  a  lively  tattoo  with  his  fingers  on  his 
desk  and  sat  for  some  time  in  perplexed  thought  before  he 
again  locked  up  his  office  and  took  his  way  homeward. 

He  had  come  too  often  in  contact  with  the  seamy  side 
of  human  nature  to  be  greatly  amazed  if  Mortimer  Win- 
stead  were  the  one  to  blame  for  the  missing  money;  but 
notwithstanding,  he  felt  most  heartily  sorry  for  the  young 
man;  and  the  thought  of  Mrs.  Winstead's  misery  made  him 
give  himself  a  little  shivery  shake  as  he  put  up  his  um- 
brella, which  he  quickly  attributed  to  the  wind  and  rain  and 
stepped  out  more  briskly  over  the  wet  pavements. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

MORTIMER    FINDS   A    HELPER 

MORTIMER'S  visit  home  did  not  bring  him  comfort 
He  could  not  see  his  mother,  as  she  was  in  Helen's 
room,  and  Jane  told  him  that  the  doctor  had  said  the  child 
had  diphtheritic  sore  throat,  and  he  wished  the  utmost 
caution  observed  to  prevent  any  one  but  her  nurse  from 
coming  in  contact  with  her.  There  was  a  bad  case  of 
diphtheria  in  the  village,  and  the  doctor  feared  that  Helen 
might  have  taken  the  disease  from  this  other  child.  He 
was  always  very  particular  in  cases  of  contagious  disease  to 
enjoin  strict  quarantine  ;  but  he  was  often  thwarted  by  the 
ignorance  and  carelessness  of  the  families  of  his  patients. 
It  was  therefore  a  great  satisfaction  to  him  to  find  that  Mrs. 
Winstead  obeyed  all  his  directions  with  intelligent  and 
scrupulous  exactness. 

Jack  and  Mr.  Brant  were  still  at  Mr.  Marshall' s.  Mrs. 
Marshall  had  insisted  that  they  should  remain  for  the  pres- 
ent, and  as  Mr.  Marshall  had  business  just  at  this  time 
that  needed  his  attention  and  might  involve  an  absence 
over  one  or  possibly  two  Sundays,  Mr.  Brant  offered  to 
preach  for  him  and  thus  relieve  him  from  the  necessity  of 
hurrying  home  each  Sunday. 

Mortimer  thought  of  going  over  to  Mr.  Marshall's  when 
he  found  that  he  could  not  see  his  mother,  but  he  felt  too 
disheartened  and  wretched.  Jane  advised  him  not  to  come 
into  the  house  at  all.  Jessica  and  Mrs.  Brant  were  up  in 
her  sitting  room,  busy  with  the  household  mending,  and  he 

215 


21  6  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

told  Jane  not  to  disturb  them,  as  he  had  to  take  the  next 
train  back  to  town. 

"Tell  Jessica  to  write  every  day  and  let  us  know  how 
Helen  is,"  he  said,  and  then  he  took  his  lonely  way  back 
to  the  station. 

It  was  half-past  eight  o'clock  before  he  got  back  to  Miss 
Halsey's,  and  he  let  himself  in  quietly  with  his  latch  key 
and  stole  upstairs  only  longing  to  get  to  his  own  room.  He 
heard  Bertha's  voice  chatting  gayly  to  Miss  Halsey  and  her 
sister  in  the  parlor  as  he  stole  softly  past  the  closed  door, 
and  he  supposed  that  his  aunt  was  with  them.  He  was  too 
weary  and  miserable  to  care  for  anything  to  eat,  and  he  told 
himself  that  he  did  not  want  to  have  to  talk  to  any  one  ;  but 
all  the  same  there  came  over  him  as  he  threw  himself  on 
the  bed  in  his  little  room  an  almost  overwhelming  sensa- 
tion of  loneliness.  Helen  had  always  been  the  pet  of  the 
family,  and  her  illness  was  in  itself  a  great  anxiety  to  Mor- 
timer, who  had  little  knowledge  of  illness  and  therefore  was 
full  of  vague  terrors. 

Then  the  thought  that  whatever  might  be  before  him,  his 
reputation  and  his  usefulness  were  blighted,  seemed  to  sap 
all  his  energy  and  hope.  And  again  the  remembrance  of 
the  falsehood  and  deceit  of  the  man  he  had  tried  to  befriend 
roused  him  to  fierce  indignation.  He  was  so  absorbed  in 
the  painful  intensity  of  his  own  bitter  reflections  that  he  did 
not  hear  the  light  footstep  that  followed  him  slowly  up  the 
stairs,  and  he  was  startled  when  a  gentle  hand  was  laid  on 
his  arm.  Thinking  that  it  was  Bertha,  whose  anxiety  to 
hear  about  Helen  had  caused  her  to  watch  for  his  return,  he 
sat  up  to  get  it  over  and  be  left  free  again  ;  but  he  was 
more  surprised  to  see  by  the  dim  light  from  the  entry  the 
figure  of  his  Aunt  Rachel. 

"Is  it  anything  very  bad,  my  boy?"  she  asked  kindly. 


MORTIMER    FINDS    A    HELPER  21 J 

"Yes,  bad  enough,  for  they  are  afraid  of  diphtheria," 
answered  Mortimer  drearily. 

Miss  Clive  started,  and  he  could  feel  her  hand,  that  still 
lay  on  his  arm,  close  in  a  tight  clutch  ;  but  in  another 
moment  her  kind  voice  spoke  gently  : 

' '  I  am  very  sorry  ;  but  we  must  not  be  downcast,  my 
boy  ;  we  have  a  strong  Helper  to  whose  loving  care  we  can 
confide  the  dear  child." 

Mortimer  made  no  reply.  The  words  sounded  so  hollow 
and  meaningless  to  him  that  he  was  surprised  at  himself. 

"  Did  you  see  your  mother?"   asked  his  aunt 

"  No.  Jane  told  me  that  she  was  quarantined  in  Helen's 
room,"  he  answered  in  the  same  dull,  dreary  tone.  "But 
I  left  word  for  Jessica  to  write  every  day  ;  and  she  is  a  good, 
trusty  little  soul.  We  can  depend  on  hearing  from  her." 

' '  Then  you  could  not  get  any  talk  with  your  mother  ;  and 
I  know  that  you  wanted  badly  to  see  her,"  said  Miss  Clive. 
"  Don't  be  worried  ;  I  have  not  been  trying  to  find  out  any- 
thing, my  boy  ;  but  I  could  not  help  seeing  that  you  were 
in  trouble,  and  if  you  like  to  tell  me  I'  11  try  my  best  to  help 
you  out" 

"It  isn't  anything  that  I  can  tell,"  said  Mortimer  with  a 
gasp,  as  he  thought  that  if  he  was  to  be  turned  off  from 
Palmer  &  Davenant'  s  everybody  would  soon  know.  • '  I  am 
in  trouble,  but.it  isn't  my  fault,  and  all  I  can  do  is  just  to 
bear  it  quietly  till  I  get  a  chance  to  make  the  one  suffer 
who  ought  to  bear  the  blame."  His  tone  grew  very  hard 
and  bitter,  but  his  aunt's  voice  was  still  gentle  and  en- 
couraging, and  in  the  darkness  of  the  room  he  could  not  see 
the  look  of  pain  on  her  face  as  she  answered  him  : 

"If  you  cannot  tell  me,  there  is  always  One  who  knows 
without  any  telling,  and  who  has  always  the  best  of  help 
waiting  for  those  who  ask  it ' ' 


2l8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"Oh,  Aunt  Rachel,  don't  talk  to  me  just  now!  I  can't 
listen  quietly  when  I  have  been  made  to  suffer  for  other 
people's  wrong-doing,"  exclaimed  Mortimer  impatiently. 

' '  Well,  my  boy,  I  would  far  rather  hear  that  you  were 
suffering  for  the  wrong-doing  of  others  than  from  your  own," 
replied  his  aunt  with  a  little  attempt  at  loving  gayety  ;  but 
when  he  buried  his  face  again  in  the  pillow  with  a  long- 
drawn  breath  that  was  almost  a  groan,  she  quickly  added 
with  the  deepest  sympathy,  "but  it  hurts  me  too  much  to 
think  of  you  as  suffering  at  all.  Don' t  say  that  I  must  not 
talk  to  you,  dear.  If  I  cannot  help  you  out  of  your  diffi- 
culties it  will  not  worry  you  to  know  that  I  am  sorry."  She 
spoke  so  anxiously  and  lovingly  that  Mortimer  felt  ashamed 
of  his  impatience  and  he  reached  out  and  felt  for  her  hand 
in  the  darkness. 

"I  would  not  be  in  any  trouble  at  all,"  he  said  at  last, 
drawn  on  to  speak  by  the  warm,  tight  clasp  of  her  hand  and 
the  consciousness  that  she  was  waiting  eagerly  to  know  of 
something  that  she  could  do  for  him,  "none  at  all,  if  it 
were  not  that  other  people  won' t  speak  the  truth.  There  is 
one  who  could  set  the  matter  straight  at  once  if  he  would 
do  it.  Mother  warned  me  against  him,  and  I  ought  to 
have  been  wiser,  but  I  thought  that  he  was  honest  in  his 
friendship,  at  least." 

"May  I  tell  you  what  I  think,  and  may  I  tell  you  of 
whom  I  think  you  are  speaking  ? ' '  asked  his  aunt. 

"Oh,  there  is  no  need  to  make  any  secret  about  that.  I 
am  talking  of  Mark  Willoughby,"  said  Mortimer  with  the 
bitterness  in  his  tone  that  each  mention  of  Mark's  name 
aroused  in  him  since  he  had  heard  of  Mark's  assertion  that 
Jack  did  not  speak  the  truth. 

"If  anything  that  Mark  Willoughby  has  said  or  done 
has  gotten  you  into  trouble,  you  must  let  Mark  know  it," 


MORTIMER    FINDS    A    HELPER 

said  Miss  Rachel  decidedly.  "He  is  a  weak  young  man, 
but  he  is  not  bad." 

"Weak!"  exclaimed  Mortimer  scornfully.  "That  is 
the  last  thing  that  I  should  call  him." 

"Trust  me,  it  is  true,"  replied  Miss  Rachel.  "He  has 
no  strong  principle,  but  he  is  kind-hearted.  I  should  feel 
safe  in  saying  that  he  would  not  willingly  injure  you  ;  but  I 
would  not  answer  for  it  that  he  might  not  be  led  into  telling 
a  lie,  or  giving  countenance  to  some  sharp  trick  if  a  rascal 
persuaded  him,  and  if  he  did  not  see  that  it  was  likely  to 
injure  any  one  that  he  cared  about.  That  is  why  I  call  him 
weak,  and  people  like  that  make  dangerous  friends." 

"  I  meant  to  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  Mark  ;  but  if 
you  are  right  it  would  be  worth  while  to  see  him  and  get 
him  to  explain  a  part  of  this  muddle  that  only  he  can  ex- 
plain," said  Mortimer  thoughtfully. 

"  I  think  that  it  would  be  your  wisest  plan,"  replied  his 
aunt.  "  But  now  before  you  go  any  farther  let  me  give  you 
a  little  word  of  advice  ;  don' t  take  one  step  without  confid- 
ing all  your  hopes  and  plans  to  the  Lord,  and  asking  his 
guidance.  Do  not,  because  an  earthly  friend  fails  you,  cast 
aside  the  only  never- failing  Friend." 

"  I  have  tried  so  hard  to  keep  straight,  and  it  does  seem 
hard  that  I  should  have  suspicion  cast  on  me  when  many 
fellows  who  do  far  more  to  deserve  suspicion  get  off  all 
right,"  said  Mortimer. 

"  Have  you  asked  his  guidance  in  all  that  you  have  been 
doing  lately  ? ' '  asked  Miss  Clive.  Mortimer  made  no  reply, 
and  she  did  not  seem  to  expect  any,  for  she  rose  to  her  feet 
as  if  prepared  to  leave  the  room.  Then  she  delayed  a  mo- 
ment and  whispered  in  his  ear:  "'Oh,  tarry  thou  the 
Lord' s  leisure  :  be  strong,  and  he  shall  comfort  thine  heart, 
and  put  thou  thy  trust  in  the  Lord. '  ' ' 


22O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

She  did  not  wait  to  say  another  word  ;  but  he  felt  a  light 
kiss  on  his  forehead  and  then  he  saw  her  figure  going  out 
into  the  dim  entry. 

"  I  believe  that  she  does  just  that  every  day  of  her  life," 
he  muttered  to  himself,  and  to  his  own  surprise  the  feelings 
of  resentment  and  the  terrible  depression  that  took  posses- 
sion of  him  when  he  was  not  full  of  resentment,  seemed  to 
have  lost  their  hold  on  him.  Mark's  absence  and  the  de- 
lay necessary  in  getting  any  help  from  him,  still  weighed 
heavily  on  Mortimer' s  mind  ;  but  he  was  able  to  face  the 
future  more  bravely.  Any  one  looking  into  his  room  would 
have  seen  him  still  lying  on  his  bed  with  his  face  buried  in 
his  pillow  as  his  aunt  had  found  him  ;  but  it  was  words  of 
prayer  and  no  longer  words  of  bitter  anger  that  filled  his 
heart 

'Downstairs  Miss  Clive  paused  for  a  moment  in  her  own 
room  before  going  down  to  the  parlor,  and  it  was  a  short 
and  earnest  prayer  that  went  up  from  her  heart.  The  words 
were  few  :  "  O  God,  give  me  the  right  words  to  speak 
to  these  dear  children,  and  show  me  how  to  lead  them 
closer  to  thee."  But  they  were  almost  painful  in  their  in- 
tensity, and  such  a  spirit  never  asks  unheeded,  nor  fails  to 
receive  a  reply. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FOLLOWING   THE   CLUE 

BERTHA  was  greatly  distressed  when  she  learned  the 
serious  nature  of  Helen's  illness  ;  but  a  letter  from 
Jessica  the  following  day,  in  which  she  wrote  that  the  doc- 
tor spoke  hopefully,  seemed  to  cheer  her  wonderfully,  and 
she  went  out  to  her  lessons  in  her  usual  bright  spirits. 

"  It  is  a  lesson  to  me,  just  to  see  in  what  a  real  Christian 
spirit  she  takes  this,"  said  Miss  Rebecca  Halsey,  who  had 
a  nervous  and  timid  disposition.  Miss  Clive  made  no 
reply,  for  she  feared  that  Bertha' s  cheerfulness  had  no  such 
firm  foundation  ;  and  so  it  proved,  for  that  very  evening 
Bertha  began  to  complain  to  her  aunt  of  Mortimer's  grave 
face  and  quiet  manner. 

"One  would  think  that  Helen  was  really  dangerously 
ill,"  she  said  impatiently.  "  I  am  sure  I  feel  as  badly  as 
any  one  that  dear  little  Helen  is  ill  at  all,  but  I  don't  carry 
about  such  a  long  face  as  Mortimer.  He  is  so  dull  too  that 
one  can  hardly  get  him  interested  in  anything.  He  knows 
that  I  am  interested  in  those  musicales  at  the  Willoughbys'  ; 
but  when  I  speak  to  him  about  them  he  hardly  hears  me. 
At  least  he  gives  the  shortest  possible  answers." 

Miss  Clive  had  noticed  that  Mortimer  shrank  from  con- 
fiding to  Bertha  any  of  his  anxieties,  but  she  could  not  now 
refrain  from  saying  : 

' '  I  think  that  Mortimer  has  business  troubles  to  worry 
him  ;  and  I  am  sure  that  he  is  bothered  by  Mark  Wil- 
loughby's  absence  from  town  just  now." 

221 


222  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"If  he  would  only  confide  in  me,"  said  Bertha,  with  a 
trace  of  asperity  in  her  tone,  ' '  I  am  sure  that  it  would  be 
better  for  him  as  well  as  more  considerate  for  me. ' ' 

Her  aunt  recognized  the  ring  of  offended  pride  in  her 
speech,  and  she  sighed,  for  she  knew  well  that  this  was  not 
the  spirit  that  would  win  Mortimer' s  confidence.  A  little 
real  sisterly  sympathy  would  have  been  a  boon  to  Mortimer 
now,  for  matters  did  not  improve,  though  he  was  making  a 
brave  fight  to  keep  patiently  and  steadily  at  his  work. 

Mr.  Lindsay  had  nothing  satisfactory  to  tell  Mr.  Palmer, 
when  that  gentleman  called  at  his  office  the  day  after  his 
interview  with  Mortimer.  Indeed,  all  the  information  that 
Mr.  Lindsay  had  to  give  only  served,  as  he  had  foreseen, 
to  confirm  the  bad  impression  that  Mr.  Palmer  had  received 
from  Mortimer' s  refusal  to  say  to  whom  he  had  sent  the 
note. 

"He  has  picked  out  Mark  Willoughby' s  name  because 
Mark  is  out  of  town  and  cannot  be  got  at  just  now  to  deny 
any  story  that  he  chooses  to  invent,"  Mr.  Palmer  said 
coldly  ;  "but  he  cannot  humbug  me  with  any  such  tale  as 
that  Mr.  Willoughby' s  son,  who  has  an  ample  allowance 
from  his  father,  would  want  to  borrow  of  a  young  clerk 
with  -nothing  but  a  salary  of  fifty  dollars  a  month." 

Mr.  Lindsay  was  on  the  point  of  suggesting  that  some- 
times the  very  fact  of  being  the  son  of  a  rich  man  made  it 
the  more  likely  that  a  young  fellow  might  get  into  scrapes 
where  he  badly  needed  money  to  help  him  out,  but  the 
remembrance  that  Mark  was  Mr.  Palmer's  nephew  made 
him  keep  silent.  It  was  true  that  the  little  lawyer  himself 
secretly  doubted  the  truth  of  Mortimer' s  story  ;  but  never- 
theless he  meant  to  do  all  that  he  could  to  prevent  trouble 
and  disgrace  to  the  Winstead  family,  and  he  rightly  judged 
that  to  make  Mr.  Palmer  indignant  with  himself  was  not  the 


FOLLOWING    THE    CLUE  223 

best  way  to  attain  his  object.  He  decided  to  see  Mrs. 
Winstead,  and  to  get  from  Jack  an  accurate  account  of  that 
morning' s  proceedings,  and  also  as  clear  a  description  as 
the  boy  could  give  of  the  man  whom  he  had  met  twice  on 
the  morning  of  the  thirty-first  of  March. 

With  this  object  in  view  he  went  out  as  soon  as  Mr. 
Palmer  left  his  office  and v took  the  next  train  to  Briarley. 
He  had  forgotten  Helen's  illness  and  was  therefore  surprised 
when  Mrs.  Brant  opened  the  door  to  him  and  informed  him 
that  Mrs.  Winstead  could  not  see  him,  as  she  did  not  leave 
the  room  of  her  sick  child. 

' '  But  if  you  have  come  with  any  tidings  about  this 
trouble  that  her  son  has  got  into,  please  come  in  and  speak 
tome,"  said  Mrs.  Brant  "I  have  heard  all  about  the 
matter,  and  I  am  very  anxious  to  know  how  I  can  help 
her." 

Mr.  Lindsay,  thus  invited,  followed  her  into  the  parlor ; 
and  he  told  her  that  nothing  had  as  yet  been  discovered  as 
to  the  real  culprit 

"Then  I  will  tell  you  just  how  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Brant 
"  Mr.  Palmer  is  just  as  mad  as  a  man  always  gets  when  he 
loses  money  and  thinks  that  he  has  been  cheated  ;  and  as 
there  is  nobody  else  for  him  to  go  for,  he  will  end  by  getting 
mad  with  Mortimer  and  thinking  that  he  took  it."  She 
paused  and  nodded  her  head  sagely,  while  Mr.  Lindsay 
wondered  much  what  was  coming  next  and  held  his  tongue. 
"Now,"  she  continued,  "  I  need  not  tell  you,  Mr.  Lindsay, 
that  Mortimer  did  not  touch  that  money  any  more  than  you 
or  I  did.  But  I  want  to  know  just  what  Mr.  Palmer  thinks 
and  says." 

"Well,  madame,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay,  "I  think  that  as 
you  know  all  the  particulars,  it  wouM  be  better  to  explain 
to  you  Mr.  Palmer's  opinion  and  his  decision.  I  must  say 


224  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

that  things  look  black  for  Mortimer.  He  made  a  great 
mistake  in  not  speaking  frankly  to  Mr.  Palmer  when  he 
questioned  him.  The  result  is  that  Mr.  Palmer  feels  that 
there  was  some  deception  on  Mortimer's  part" 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brant  sharply.  "Mr. 
Palmer  just  wants  his  money  back  and  he  is  mad  because 
he  can't  get  it" 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay;  "Mr.  Palmer  does  not  mind 
the  money  itself,  which  is  a  comparatively  insignificant 
amount  to  him  ;  but  he  feels,  as  I  said,  that  there  has  been 
some  wrong-doing,  and  he  thinks  that  Mortimer  ought  to 
have  a  warning.  That  is  why  he  decides  that  Mortimer 
ought  to  repay  it." 

"I  knew  it,"  cried  Mrs.  Brant  triumphantly.  "  But  if 
he  gets  his  money,  what  then  ? ' '  she  added  shrewdly. 

"Then  nothing  more  will  be  said  about  the  matter; 
otherwise  he  intends  to  discharge  Mortimer,"  replied  Mr. 
Lindsay,  who  had  dreaded  a  feminine  outburst  of  tears  and 
wrath  and  was  glad  to  have  the  explanation  off  his  mind. 

' '  Well  now,  Mr.  Lindsay, ' '  said  Mrs.  Brant  impressively, 
"  I  want  you  just  to  tell  Mr.  Palmer  that  he  is  going  to  get 
his  money.  You  needn't  look  so  surprised,  for  I  have  it. 
My  son  Felix  has  sent  me  fifty  dollars  out  of  his  savings — 
he  is  earning  right  smart  now — and  I  mean  to  use  it  to  pay 
off  Mr.  Palmer  and  get  Mortimer  set  right.  I  had  it  laid 
by  to  pay  Mr.  Brant' s  doctor' s  bill  ;  but  Mrs.  Winstead 
said  that  she  was  going  to  pay  that,  and  then  when  we 
spoke  to  Dr.  Scott  he  said  he  didn'  t  charge  ministers,  and 
there  was  no  bill. ' ' 

"That  is  a  good  deal  for  you  to  lose,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay. 
"You  have  already  shown  a  very  friendly  feeling  in  the 
matter  of  the  will,  but  your  son  might  be  vexed  if  he  knew 
that  you  had  used  his  savings  in  this  way." 


FOLLOWING    THE    CLUE  225 

"  I  guess  Felix  is  still  my  son  if  he  is  six  feet  tall,  and  he 
hasn'  t  yet  got  to  the  size  or  the  age  when  he  is  going  to 
dictate  to  me, ' '  retorted  Mrs.  Brant  with  a  little  flash  of  in- 
dependence. ' '  And  I  would  be  ashamed  to  think  that  he 
would  feel  so  mean  toward  people  who  have  been  so  kind 
to  us  ;  so  you  will  just  please  not  to  suppose  anything  like 
that  about  him." 

Mr.  Lindsay  with  difficulty  suppressed  a  smile.  It  was 
evident  that  this  spunky  little  woman  was  used  to  ruling 
over  her  quiet  husband  and  over  her  son,  but  there  was  no 
denying  that  it  was  a  thoroughly  kind  and  honest  heart  that 
prompted  her  rulings. 

He  apologized  for  his  blunder  and  then  suggested  that  he 
would  like  to  see  Jack  and  make  further  inquiries  of  him  as 
to  the  man  whom  he  had  seen  in  the  office. 

"You  will  have  to  go  to  Mr.  Marshall's  then,"  said  Mrs. 
Brant,  "for  we  don't  let  him  come  here  ;  but  wait  a  minute, 
and  I'll  give  you  that  money  to  take  to  Mr.  Palmer,  for  he 
mightn'  t  like  to  have  me  come  up  to  his  house,  seeing  as 
there  is  diphtheria  here." 

' '  There  is  no  hurry  about  that, ' '  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  ' '  The 
delay  of  a  day  or  two  is  of  no  consequence  to  Mr.  Palmer, 
and  I  may  learn  something  from  Jack  that  will  set  me  on 
the  track  of  this  man. ' '  With  these  words  and  a  message 
of  sympathy  for  Mrs.  Winstead  and  the  sick  child,  Mr. 
Lindsay  took  his  leave  and  went  to  Mr.  Marshall' s. 

Jack  was  busy  studying  under  Mr.  Brant's  supervision. 
He  had  been  making  very  rapid  progress  since  Mr.  Brant 
had  undertaken  the  work  of  coaching  him,  and  Mr.  Brant 
was  becoming  very  much  interested  in  his  bright  pupil. 
The  books  were  laid  aside,  however,  and  the  whole  story  of 
Jack's  doings  on  the  last  day  of  March  was  gone  over  for 
Mr.  Lindsay's  benefit 

P 


226  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Jack  said  that  as  he  rang  the  bell  at  Mr.  Willoughby's 
the  door  opened  and  Mr.  Mark  Willoughby  stepped  out. 
Jack  at  once  gave  him  the  note  that  Mortimer  had  written 
so  hastily.  The  young  man  took  it  and  went  back  into  the 
house,  and  the  servant  who  came  in  answer  to  the  ring  said 
that  Mr.  Willoughby  was  not  at  home.  Jack  was  just  turn- 
ing away  when  Mr.  Mark  Willoughby  came  out  again  in  a 
great  hurry,  and  pointing  to  a  man  who  had  passed  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  thrust  a  paper  into  Jack's  hand 
and  asked  him  if  he  would  run  after  that  man  and  give  it 
to  him. 

"He  was  just  turning  the  corner  and  I  had  to  make  good 
time  to  catch  him, ' '  said  Jack,  ' '  but  I  saw  that  it  was  the 
man  I  had  met  at  the  office.  I  caught  him  before  he  had 
gone  more  than  half  a  block  down  the  other  street,  and  I 
gave  him  the  paper  and  said  that  Mr.  Mark  Willoughby 
had  sent  it" 

"You  are  sure  that  you  said  that?"   asked  Mr.  Lindsay. 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  Jack.  "Then  when  I  went  back  to 
the  corner  I  saw  Mark  Willoughby  still  standing  on  his 
doorstep,  and  I  just  nodded  to  him  that  it  was  all  right  and 
made  about  the  liveliest  running  to  get  back  to  Mr.  Davenant 
before  he  should  get  impatient." 

Mr.  Lindsay  then  inquired  particularly  about  the  appear- 
ance of  the  man  whom  Jack  had  seen  thus  twice,  and  from 
the  description  he  felt  convinced  that  it  was  Hamilton  ;  but 
he  was  careful  to  give  no  hint  of  his  suspicion  until  he 
should  have  more  ground  to  support  it.  The  whole  affair, 
told  in  Jack's  boyish,  straightforward  style,  bore  the  stamp 
of  truth,  and  Mr.  Lindsay  began  to  think  that  there  was 
some  deeply  laid  scheme  to  ruin  Mortimer,  in  which  Ham- 
ilton and  Mark  were  both  implicated. 

Mr.  Guy  Atherton  was  in  the  office  when  he  returned  to 


FOLLOWING   THE   CLUE 

town,  and  to  him  Mr.  Lindsay  told  what  he  had  learned, 
for  to  him  he  felt  that  he  could  safely  give  vent  to  his  in- 
dignation at  the  dastardly  plot,  as  he  called  it,  of  young 
Willoughby. 

"I  think  that  you  are  mistaken  there,"  said  Guy 
thoughtfully.  "I  don't  believe  that  Mark  is  as  bad  as 
that ;  and  besides,  if  what  I  hear  is  true,  he  would  not  be 
likely  to  wish  to  injure  Mortimer  Winstead." 

"Oh,  I  have  no  faith  in  his  professions  of  friendship,  if 
that  is  what  you  mean,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "Words  are 
cheap. ' ' 

"I  did  not  mean  that,"  replied  Guy,  playing  nervously 
with  a  pen.  ' '  Of  course,  after  what  I  hear  of  Willough- 
by's  attentions  to  Miss  Winstead,  I  should  not  suppose 
that  he  would  wish  to  injure  her  brother." 

Mr.  Lindsay  gave  a  low  whistle,  and  cast  one  keen  glance 
at  his  partner.  Something  in  the  young  man' s  face  warned 
him  to  be  careful  what  he  said,  and  he  only  remarked  : 

' '  I  have  heard  nothing  of  this.  You  know  I  am  a  staid 
old  fogy,  Guy,  and  don' t  go  out  among  the  young  people 
as  you  do." 

"Well,  well,  let  that  go,"  said  Guy  impatiently.  "I 
am  thinking  about  Hamilton,  as  you  call  him.  I  wish  that 
I  could  get  a  good  look  at  him." 

"  He  gets  his  mail  at  Jim  Benton's  office,  and  he  is  sup- 
posed to  be  agent  for  some  mining  company  in  Colorado," 
said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "I  learned  that  much  about  him,  but 
when  I  asked  Benton  where  Hamilton's  office  was,  he 
laughed  and  said  he  guessed  it  was  in  his  hat" 

"Does  Benton  know  where  he  lives  ?"  asked  Guy. 

"If  he  does  he  won't  tell.  He  said  somewhere  out  of 
town,  and  that  is  vague  enough  in  all  conscience,"  replied 
Mr.  Lindsay.  "If  he  is  really  responsible  for  the  loss  of 


228  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

the  fifty  dollars,  it  was  a  pretty  brazen  game  to  go  straight 
to  the  office  to  see  Mr.  Palmer  about  it ' ' 

"  It  is  those  risky  games  that  will  often  serve  the  turn,  if 
a  rogue  has  cheek  enough  to  carry  it  through  coolly,"  said 
Guy  sententiously.  ' '  Nobody  saw  this  mysterious  visitor 
at  the  office  except  Jack ' ' 

"And  the  office  boy,"  corrected  Mr.  Lindsay,  "I  for- 
got to  tell  you  that  the  office  boy  says  that  it  was  not  Mr. 
Appleby  who  came  in  early  that  morning." 

• '  Are  you  willing  that  I  should  have  a  talk  with  some  of 
these  people?"  asked  Guy.  "I  am  sure  that  if  Mark 
knew  the  plight  Mortimer  is  in  he  would  speak  out  and 
explain  the  whole  business." 

"I  don't  believe  that  he  would,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay, 
positively  ;  "and  I'll  tell  you  what  I  heard  from  Ben  ton. 
He  says  that  Mr.  Palmer  wants  Mortimer's  place  to  give  it 
to  Mark." 

' '  I  don' t  believe  that, ' '  said  Guy  decidedly.  ' '  And  even 
if  Mr.  Palmer  would  do  such  a  mean  thing,  Mark  would 
not  have  the  place  if  he  knew  that  he  was  getting  it  in  such 
a  sneaking  fashion." 

Guy  spoke  so  hotly  that  Mr.  Lindsay  pursed  up  his  lips 
and  made  no  reply.  He  only  remarked  : 

' '  Of  course  I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  can  get  any  clue 
out  of  the  muddle.  Talk  to  whom  you  please  as  long  as 
you  are  cautious.  I  don' t  want  Hamilton  bringing  suit  for 
slander  against  us." 

"Never  fear,  I'll  be  careful,"  and  with  these  words  Guy 
rose  to  go  out 

"  Young  people  are  forever  in  hot  water,"  muttered  Mr. 
Lindsay  to  himself  when  he  was  left  alone.  "Who  would 
have  thought  that  Guy,  who  needs  a  rich  wife  to  start  him 
well,  would  take  a  fancy  to  Bertha  Winstead  ?  But  if  she 


FOLLOWING    THE    CLUE  22Q 

has  Mark  Willoughby  in  tow  he  may  as  well  get  over  the 
fancy,  for  Mark  has  the  advantage  of  him  in  money  and 
good  looks,  whatever  else  he  may  lack  ;  and  those  are  the 
two  points  that  girls  look  out  for  in  a  husband." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

BERTHA   TRIES   TO    HELP 

BERTHA  was  so  much  absorbed  in  practising  for  the 
musicale  that  she  had  very  little  time  to  fret  over 
Mortimer' s  grave  looks  ;  and  in  spite  of  her  aunt' s  words 
she  made  no  effort  to  win  Mortimer's  confidence.  A  day 
or  two  before  the  evening  which  had  been  set  for  the  first 
musicale  she  stopped  to  see  Kate,  and  was  surprised  to 
learn  that  Kate  had  not  arranged  for  it  to  take  place  on  the 
evening  they  had  planned. 

"I  think  it  is  a  pity  to  put  it  off,"  said  Bertha.  "Of 
course  your  brother  is  away,  but  he  expected  that  he  would 
come  in  for  the  second  evening.  He  told  me  so  himself." 

"  I  was  glad  that  he  did  go  away  just  now,  and  give  me 
a  good  excuse  for  postponing  the  whole  affair, ' '  said  Kate 
impulsively.  ' '  I  have  no  heart  for  it  at  all  while  you  are 
in  such  trouble.  Mark  will  feel  dreadfully  worried  about" 
it,  for  your  brother  Mortimer  was  such  a  good  friend  to 
Mark." 

' '  What  can  you  mean  ? ' '  asked  Bertha  in  amazement 
"  Helen  is  not  so  very  ill  as  all  that." 

Kate  saw  too  late  the  blunder  that  she  had  made.  She 
would  gladly  have  turned  off  to  other  subjects  ;  but  Bertha's 
suspicions  were  fully  roused,  and  to  all  Kate' s  kindly  in- 
quiries about  her  mother  and  Helen,  she  only  replied  by 
urging  her  to  tell  her  what  was  wrong  with  Mortimer.  At 
last  she  succeeded  in  drawing  from  Kate  enough  to  show 
her  how  very  serious  the  matter  was  for  Mortimer  ;  but  her 
230 


BERTHA    TRIES    TO    HELP  23  I 

vexation  was  greater  than  her  sympathy.  For  the  first 
moment  she  felt  almost  stunned,  but  her  usual  self-control 
did  not  desert  her,  and  she  quietly  asked  when  Mark  was 
expected  home,  and  when  the  musicale  was  to  come  off. 

"Mark  did  not  expect  to  get  back  before  late  in  the 
week,"  replied  Kate  ;  "but  I  had  a  line  from  him  to-day, 
saying  that  he  might  come  by  the  four  o'  clock  express  on 
Monday. ' ' 

"Very  well,"  said  Bertha  lightly;  "don't  put  off 
another  musicale  on  our  account  This  matter  will  be  set- 
tled before  Monday.  It  is  only  some  mistake." 

Kate  had  only  spoken  about  the  missing  money.  She 
could  not  tell  Bertha  exactly  what  the  suspicions  were 
against  Mortimer,  although  she  had  heard  from  her  father 
all  about  it,  and  she  knew  that  her  father  very  strongly 
shared  Mr.  Palmer's  idea  as  to  who  was  to  blame.  She 
herself  knew  that  it  was  true  that  Mark  had  borrowed  from 
Mortimer,  but  she  did  not  dare  to  bring  down  her  father's 
wrath  upon  Mark  by  avowing  this,  and  as  she  knew  of 
nothing  beyond  that  first  loan  which  she  had  given  Mark 
the  money  to  repay,  she  hoped  that  it  had  been  the  last 
It  was  but  a  poor  satisfaction  to  her  when  Bertha  turned  it 
off  so  lightly,  and  took  leave  chatting  gayly  about  her  music. 

"  I  could  never  have  taken  it  so  carelessly  if  it  had  been 
Mark,"  said  Kate  to  herself;  but  Kate,  direct  and  impul- 
sive in  all  she  did,  could  hardly  understand  Bertha' s  more 
reserved  and  wily  nature.  Bertha  had  only  been  gone  a 
few  minutes  when  Mr.  Willoughby  came  in. 

1 '  Well, ' '  he  exclaimed,  rubbing  his  hands,  ' '  I  think  that 
Mark  is  going  to  fall  on  his  feet  this  time.  Your  Uncle 
Palmer  has  about  made  up  his  mind  to  get  rid  of  that 
young  fellow  Winstead,  and  your  aunt  writes  to  me  that  she 
thinks  Mark  will  be  put  in  his  place." 


232  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Surely  Uncle  Palmer  will  not  turn  off  in  disgrace  a 
clerk  against  whom  there  is  only  suspicion  ! ' '  exclaimed 
Kate. 

"Oh,  the  young  man  is  guilty  beyond  any  doubt,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Willoughby.  "  I  have  been  pretty  cross  with 
Mark  at  times,  when  he  did  not  act  as  square  as  I  thought 
he  ought  to  ;  but  thank  goodness  !  he  is  not  one  of  these 
canting  church-members,  who  pretend  to  be  so  much  above 
ordinary  mortals  and  then  show  up  so  much  worse." 

"Indeed,  father,  I  don't  think  that  is  quite  fair,"  urged 
poor  Kate,  who  was  sorely  perplexed  between  her  relief  at 
hearing  her  father  speak  in  friendly  tones  of  Mark  and  her 
conviction  that  he  was  unjust  to  Mortimer. 

' '  Never  mind,  child, ' '  replied  Mr.  Willoughby  ;  "  I  flat- 
ter myself  that  I  know  something  of  the  world  after  all 
these  years.  But  don' t  worry  your  kind  little  heart.  The 
truth  is  that  Palmer  &  Davenant  mean  to  let  that  young 
rascal  down  easy  ;  and  the  idea  is  to  put  Mark  in  his  place 
as  a  good  excuse  for  dismissing  the  other  without  any  com- 
plaint. Of  course  it  is  natural  enough  that  Mr.  Palmer 
would  rather  have  his  wife' s  nephew  than  a  stranger.  To 
my  mind  they  are  much  too  easy  with  Winstead,  but  that 
is  their  affair  ;  and  as  for  Mark,  I  could  not  have  got  him 
a  better  berth  if  I  had  spent  a  month  looking  for  it.  I  am 
very  glad  that  he  is  out  of  Harvey  &  Blake's." 

Kate  did  not  dare  to  say  any  more,  and  she  listened 
silently  to  her  father's  gratified  comments,  wondering  pain- 
fully whether  it  was  really  true  that  Christians  were  only  put- 
ting on  airs,  as  her  father  said,  to  hold  themselves  a  little  bet- 
ter than  other  people  ;  and  she  could  not  help  recalling  that 
Bertha  seemed  not  a  bit  different  from  girls  who  were  not 
members  of  any  church.  Indeed,  she  had  never  heard 
a  word  from  Bertha' s  lips  to  lead  her  to  remember  that  her 


BERTHA    TRIES    TO    HELP  233 

friend  served  another  Master  or  had  any  higher  or  holier 
hopes  and  aspirations  than  her  own. 

"She  has  not  set  herself  up  to  be  a  bit  better  than  any 
of  us,"  thought  Kate  ;  "but  it  does  seem  to  me  that  if  I 
were  a  Christian  at  all,  I  should  care  enough  about  the 
matter  to  let  others  see  that  I  was  one.  I  suppose  that  I 
am  not  good  at  hiding  what  my  feelings  are. ' ' 

If  Kate  could  have  seen  Bertha  at  that  moment,  she 
would  have  understood  her  better.  She  had  left  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby'  s  with  a  strange  medley  of  pain  and  vexation  agitat- 
ing her  mind.  As  soon  as  she  reached  home  she  went  in 
search  of  her  aunt,  and  poured  out  to  her  the  whole  story. 

"It  can't  be  true  !"  she  exclaimed  passionately.  "No 
one  ever  could  believe  that  Mortimer  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  loss  of  the  money." 

"  I  am  very,  very  sorry,  dear,"  replied  her  aunt  ;  "but  I 
fear  that  Mortimer's  employers  are  not  satisfied  with  what 
he  can  tell  them,  and  that  they  do  hold  him  responsible  for 
the  loss  of  the  money." 

"Why  was  I  not  told  this  sooner?"  cried  Bertha  indig- 
nantly. "I  am  treated  like  a  baby.  Mortimer  might 
have  had  more  confidence  in  me." 

"You  were  always  so  busy,  dear,"  explained  Miss  Clive. 
' '  You  did  notice  that  he  seemed  grave  and  anxious.  Did 
you  try  to  find  out  the  cause  ?" 

' '  I  never  imagined  that  it  was  anything  serious  like  this, ' ' 
replied  Bertha  ;  ' '  and  I  thought  of  course  he  would  tell  me 
if  it  was  anything  important.  I  could  have  helped  him. 
I  will  help  him  now.  I  will  go  at  once  to  see  Mr.  Palmer." 

"  My  dear  child,  it  will  do  no  good  for  you  to  interfere," 
said  Miss  Rachel  decidedly.  "You  can  give  no  fresh  in- 
formation in  this  unfortunate  affair,  and  Mortimer  does  not 
wish  to  have  appeals  made  to  Mr.  Palmer's  generosity." 


234  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

Bertha  set  her  lips  with  the  expression  that  her  mother 
knew  so  well  and  that  her  aunt  was  beginning  to  find  out 
meant  a  quiet  determination  to  have  her  own  way. 

• '  Well,  if  seeing  Mr.  Palmer  can  do  no  good,  at  least  I 
know  that  Mark  Willoughby  can  do  some  good, ' '  Bertha 
remarked.  "Mortimer  has  shown  that  he  was  worried  by 
Mark's  absence  from  town  just  now." 

"My  child,  the  best  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  keep  away 
from  the  Willoughbys  just  now,"  said  her  aunt.  "You 
know  your  mother  did  not  desire  any  intimacy  between  you 
and  them,  and  you  should  heed  her  wishes. 

"  Mamma  is  not  here  to  judge,"  replied  Bertha  sweetly 
enough,  but  with  an  undertone  of  obstinacy  that  roused 
her  aunt' s  sorrowful  indignation. 

' '  Mortimer  will  be  greatly  helped  by  a  little  sisterly  sym- 
pathy, ' '  she  said  ;  ' '  but  I  am  sure  that  you  will  do  harm  if 
you  attempt  to  manage  matters  that  you  do  not  fully  under- 
stand. ' ' 

"I  do  understand  this, ' '  persisted  Bertha  ;  ' ' and  if 
Mortimer  had  asked  my  advice,  he  would  never  have 
entangled  himself  with  Mark  Willoughby.  He  ought 
never  to  have  lent  him  money.  It  was  a  very  foolish  thing 
to  do." 

"You  are  far  too  self-willed  to  be  able  to  give  good 
advice  to  others,"  interrupted  her  aunt  almost  sternly. 
' '  See  how  you  treat  my  advice  and  your  mother' s  wishes. ' ' 

' '  Now,  auntie,  don' t  be  cross  with  me, ' '  said  Bertha 
coaxingly.  *'You  know  I  am  not  exactly  a  baby,  and 
really  the  very  thing  that  you  find  fault  with  is  most  fortu- 
nate just  at  this  time.  I  can  manage  Mark  Willoughby. 
I  only  need  to  see  him  and  you  may  be  sure  that  he  will  do 
all  in  his  power  to  help  Mortimer." 

"  My  dear  child  ! "  exclaimed  her  aant,  her  fears  aroused 


BERTHA    TRIES    TO    HELP  235 

again  by  Bertha's  tone,  "what  do  you  mean?  Mr.  Lind- 
say has  this  matter  in  his  hands  and  he  will  do  all  that  can 
be  done.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  think  that  you  had  any 
such  interest  in  Mark  Willoughby  or  influence  over  him  as 
your  words  imply." 

"Nonsense,  auntie  dear  !"  cried  Bertha gayly.  "What 
do  I  care  about  Mark  Willoughby  ?  But  there  are  things 
in  which  a  woman' s  tact  can  do  a  good  deal  more  than  a 
man  can  accomplish.  I  happen  to  have  heard  Mark  speak 
of  Mr.  Lindsay  in  no  very  flattering  terms,  so  I  think  that 
without  too  great  vanity  I  may  say  that  Mark  is  more  likely 
to  heed  my  wishes  than  Mr.  Lindsay's."  She  spoke  with 
an  imperious  air  that  was  very  becoming  to  her  style  of 
beauty  ;  but  Miss  Rachel  saw  too  clearly  the  danger  into 
which  her  willfulness  might  lead  her,  to  be  captivated  by 
her  manner. 

' '  Bertha, ' '  she  said  firmly,  ' '  I  must  positively  forbid 
you  to  have  anything  to  do  with  Mark  Willoughby  until 
this  affair  is  settled.  I  hope  that  regard  for  your  own 
dignity  and  regard  for  your  brother' s  welfare  will  induce 
you  to  heed  my  words. ' ' 

Bertha's  face  flushed  crimson  at  her  aunt's  unusually 
severe  tone,  and  Miss  Rachel  added  more  gently,  "Oh,  my 
dear,  do  not  act  like  a  foolish,  headstrong  child.  Mortimer 
needs  your  love  and  your  prayers,  and  you  can  do  more 
good  in  this  unseen  way  than  you  think" 

The  flush  of  annoyance  faded  from  Bertha's  face  at 
sound  of  the  gentler  tones,  but  she  changed  the  subject  of 
conversation  ;  and  Miss  Rachel  remained  doubtful  whether 
her  words  had  produced  any  effect. 

The  next  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  broke  clear  and 
bright,  but  with  April-like  clouds  drifting  about  the  sky. 
Miss  Rachel,  judging  by  her  own  feelings,  had  fully  ex- 


236  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

pected  that  Mortimer  and  Bertha  would  be  inclined  to  go 
quietly  to  church  with  her,  rather  than  to  go  as  they  had 
frequently  gone,  to  some  strange  place  where  especially  fine 
music  was  to  be  given.  She  was  therefore  surprised  when 
she  came  down  to  the  parlor  dressed  for  church,  to  find 
only  Mortimer  waiting  for  her. 

' '  Where  is  Bertha  ? ' '  she  asked.  ' '  I  thought  I  heard 
her  come  downstairs. ' ' 

' '  Yes, ' '  replied  Mortimer  ;  ' '  but  she  has  gone  to  hear 
the  new  soprano  at  St.  Antholin'  s.  I  did  not  care  to  go 
there  to-day.  She  took  her  umbrella  to  be  prepared  in 
case  of  a  shower,  and  as  it  is  such  a  short  distance  she  said 
she  would  go  alone. ' ' 

Miss  Rachel's  face  clouded,  but  she  was  too  wise  to  let 
her  disappointment  in  Bertha  make  her  a  dull  companion 
for  Mortimer.  Only  a  silent  prayer  went  up  from  her  heart 
for  her  wayward  niece,  as  she  went  out  under  Mortimer's 
escort  into  the  quiet  Sunday  streets  where  cloud  shadows 
were  chasing  the  sunbeams,  and  many  church-goers  were 
wending  their  way  to  the  different  edifices  from  whose 
towers  still  vibrated  the  clang  of  the  bells,  or  from  whose 
portals  the  deep  throb  of  the  organ  was  already  issuing. 

Bertha  had  hurried  off  earlier  than  usual  in  order  to  avoid 
meeting  her  aunt,  as  she  still  felt  hurt  by  the  lack  of  confi- 
dence in  herself  that  had  been  shown  by  her  aunt  and  her 
brother. 

' '  I  could  not  settle  my  mind  to  listen  to  Mr.  Colton'  s 
sermon, ' '  she  told  herself  by  way  of  excuse,  ' '  and  I  really 
need  a  little  good  music  to  quiet  my  nerves  after  all  this 
unfortunate  business. ' ' 

So  she  settled  herself  in  a  vacant  pew  in  the  dimly  lighted 
church,  and  dreamily  watched  the  brilliant  colors  streaming 
from  the  east  window  until  the  last  tones  of  the  bell  had 


BERTHA  TRIES  TO  HELP          237 

vibrated  into  silence.  Then  a  pulsation  seemed  to  tremble 
through  the  richly  colored  rays  of  light,  and  slowly  the  sol- 
emn tones  of  the  organ  swelled  forth  and  filled  the  church. 
Bertha  leaned  back  in  the  cushioned  seat  with  a  feeling  of 
utter  contentment  All  her  worries  and  annoyances  were 
forgotten.  Mortimer,  Aunt  Rachel,  the  Brants,  Helen, 
ever)r  one  who  had  caused  her  trouble  or  anxiety,  slipped 
into  oblivion  as  she  let  her  senses  float  upon  the  glorious 
sea  of  music  that  filled  the  arched  aisles  and  seemed  to 
carry  her  into  a  world  where  nothing  but  beauty  and  sweet- 
ness could  enter. 

When  the  anthem  began  she  roused  herself  to  more  par- 
ticular and  critical  attention ;  but  she  was  not  pleased ;  the 
voice  of  the  new  soprano  was  too  thin,  and  her  glow  of  hap- 
piness and  contentment  began  to  fade.  At  the  same 
moment  a  lady  behind  her  leaned  forward  and  whispered 
in  her  ear  : 

• '  Can  you  tell  me  the  name  of  the  soprano  singer  ?  Is 
it  Miss  Gurley  ?" 

"No,"  replied  Bertha;  "she  left  last  month.  This  is 
a  new  one.  I  don' t  know  her  name. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  thank  you, ' '  said  the  lady  in  the  same  low  whis- 
per, and  sank  back  again. 

Bertha  felt  a  little  curiosity  to  see  the  face  of  her  ques- 
tioner, but  she  sat  so  directly  behind  her  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  without  turning  completely 
around.  When  the  first  hymn  was  sung  her  curiosity  in- 
creased, for  she  heard  a  very  rich,  sweet  woman's  voice 
behind  her.  She  forgot  to  sing  herself,  and  listened  to  that 
voice  alone  throughout  the  whole  of  the  hymn.  At  last  the 
service  was  over,  and  quickly  turning  as  if  to  leave  the 
church,  Bertha  cast  a  searching  glance  over  the  people  in 
the  pew  behind  her.  A  young  lady  was  just  stooping  for  a 


238  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

fallen  handkerchief,  but  as  she  raised  her  head  she  caught 
Bertha's  eye  and  smiled. 

She  was  so  pretty,  and  her  expression  was  so  childlike 
and  nai've,  that  Bertha  involuntarily  returned  the  smile  ; 
then  fearing  that  she  had  been  betrayed  into  country  man- 
ners, and  rather  vexed  with  herself  for  her  curiosity,  she 
began  hurriedly  to  make  her  way  to  the  aisle.  At  the 
church  door  there  was  a  little  crowd.  It  had  begun  to  rain 
during  the  service,  and  people  who  were  not  fortunate 
enough  to  have  carriages  and  had  not  brought  umbrellas, 
were  waiting  in  the  hope  that  the  shower  would  cease. 
Bertha  put  up  her  umbrella  and  was  just  going  to  step  out 
of  the  shelter  of  the  church  porch,  when  a  voice  behind 
her  said  : 

' '  Would  you  mind  telling  me  the  nearest  way  to  the 
Carl  ton  House  ?" 

Turning,  she  encountered  her  questioner  in  the  church. 

"It  is  four  or  five  blocks,"  she  replied.  "  Have  you  no 
umbrella?" 

"  No, "  replied  the  girl.     ' '  Can  I  take  a  car  or  omnibus  ? ' ' 

"They  do  not  run  that  way,"  said  Bertha,  Then,  see- 
ing the  girl' s  look  of  dismay,  she  added  :  "  It  is  not  far 
out  of  my  way,  and  I  will  show  you  the  way  if  you  like. 
You  would  get  wet  through  without  an  umbrella." 

"You  are  very  good.  I  was  just  wishing  that  you  would 
let  me  share  your  umbrella,"  said  the  girl  with  the  frank- 
ness and  pleasure  of  a  child.  "  Let  us  go  quickly,"  and 
she  drew  her  arm  through  Bertha's  and  hurried  down  the 
street  through  the  rain  just  as  a  carriage  was  approaching 
the  church  door. 

Bertha  was  puzzled  by  her  companion.  She  was  dressed 
handsomely  and  in  perfect  taste,  and  she  was  undoubtedly- 
very  pretty.  She  chatted  a  little  too  loudly  and  too  freely 


BERTHA    TRIES    TO    HELP 

to  a  perfect  stranger,  Bertha  thought,  but  there  was  so  much 
childish  glee  in  her  manner,  that  it  was  difficult  to  criticise 
her.  They  touched  upon  musical  topics  at  once,  and  as 
they  both  preferred  Miss  Gurley,  the  former  soprano,  to  the 
new  one,  they  had  one  point  upon  which  they  could  sym- 
pathize, and  Bertha  found  herself  chatting  almost  as  freely 
as  her  unknown  companion.  As  they  turned  into  the 
street  on  which  the  hotel  stood,  the  girl  said  suddenly  : 

' '  I  am  very  glad  that  this  shower  came  on,  for  I  have 
been  wanting  very  much  to  get  acquainted  with  you,  Miss 
Winstead. ' ' 

"You  have  the  advantage  of  me,"  said  Bertha,  answer- 
ing stiffly  in  her  intense  surprise.  "You  seem  to  know  my 
name." 

1 '  That  is  because  you  are  a  musician  and  somebody, ' ' 
replied  the  girl  gayly,  "while  I  am  a  nonentity,  unless 
people  happen  to  have  had  a  regular  introduction  to  me. 
There  !  I  see  my  father  and  mother  have  overtaken  us,  so  I 
need  not  take  you  farther.  I  shall  come  to  see  you  to 
thank  you  properly  for  your  kindness,"  and  she  slipped 
her  arm  out  of  Bertha' s  and  sprang  into  a  carriage  that  had 
just  drawn  up  to  the  curbstone  behind  them. 

The  umbrella  bobbed  fonvard  at  this  sudden  departure, 
and  by  the  time  Bertha  had  righted  it  the  carriage  door 
was  closed,  and  she  only  caught  an  indistinct  glimpse 
through  rain-streaked  glass  of  an  old  gentleman  and  lady 
inside.  The  next  moment  the  carriage  drove  past  her  and 
she  had  another  vision  of  her  companion' s  bright  face  at 
the  window  and  a  dainty  little  hand  waving  to  her. 

1 '  Who  can  she  be  ?  And  what  on  earth  induced  her  to 
play  me  such  an  odd  trick  ? ' '  thought  Bertha.  "  I  am 
sure  that  I  would  not  walk  home  in  the  rain  with  anybody 
if  I  had  a  carriage  to  come  for  me." 


24O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Under  other  circumstances  she  would  have  been  cross  at 
being  brought  so  far  out  of  her  way,  but  she  could  not  be 
angry  with  such  a  bewitching  little  sprite,  particularly  when 
she  was  so  beautifully  dressed  and  had  a  carriage  to  ride  in. 
She  returned  home  full  of  her  adventure. 

Mortimer  and  Miss  Rachel  had  already  returned,  and 
Mortimer  was  feeling  the  refreshment  that  those  gain  who 
go  to  church  to  worship  and  not  to  criticise  the  way  in 
which  other  people  worship  or  the  way  in  which  the  min- 
ister conducts  the  services.  It  was  a  little  jar  to  him  when 
Bertha  came  in  full  of  her  adventure  and,  between  the  un- 
known Cinderella  and  the  new  soprano,  absorbed  the  con- 
versation at  the  dinner  table. 

Miss  Rachel  felt  inclined  to  be  vexed  with  Bertha  as  she 
noticed  the  clouded,  harassed  look  come  back  to  Morti- 
mer's face,  and  in  her  own  heart  she  thought  bitterly  that 
Bertha  had  undone  all  the  good  that  Mortimer  had  gained 
from  the  morning  service  ;  but  in  this  she  was,  like  doubt- 
ing Peter,  sinking  from  her  own  lack  of  faith.  In  truth, 
the  mind  that  is  jarred  and  harassed  by  trifling  and  frivol- 
ous talk,  is  just  the  mind  that  is  tuned  to  other  things. 
Mortimer  suggested  that  the  girl  was  no  doubt  related  to 
some  one  of  Bertha's  pupils,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  finished 
his  dinner  he  betook  himself  to  his  own  room.  Bertha  was 
not  vexed  by  his  disappearance,  as  she  was  fully  occupied 
with  speculation  concerning  the  young  girl  and  plans  for 
meeting  Mark  Willoughby  the  next  afternoon  at  the  station. 

"  I  can  shorten  Bessie  Graham's  lesson  a  little,  and  make 
it  up  to  her  the  next  time,"  she  thought.  "Then  I  can 
speak  to  Mark  and  nobody  will  be  the  wiser  until  all  is  set 
straight.  Of  course  I  will  tell  Mortimer  afterward,  and  he 
will  see  that  I  was  really  the  one  to  help  him  although  he 
had  so  little  confidence  in  me." 


BERTHA    TRIES    TO    HELP  24! 

Why  should  she  ask  counsel  and  help  from  even  a  divine 
source,  when  she  was  so  sure  of  her  own  ability  and  so  well 
satisfied  with  her  own  plans  ?  In  fact,  she  had  quite  for- 
gotten that  she  might  need  such  help,  and  her  prayers  were 
only  the  usual  petitions  that  she  never  omitted,  but  which 
this  night  were  a  little  more  hastily  run  over. 

On  Monday  morning  she  was  so  absorbed  in  her  plans 
that  even  her  pupils  noticed  that  she  was  inattentive  to  their 
lessons,  and  in  the  afternoon  she  was  in  a  fever  of  excite- 
ment lest  she  should  be  too  late  to  meet  the  train.  The 
result  was  that  she  arrived  at  the  station  some  time  before 
the  train  was  due,  and  being  at  a  loss  what  to  do  with  her- 
self, she  went  to  the  book  stand  and  idly  turned  over  the 
leaves  of  the  books  and  magazines.  While  she  was  thus 
engaged  a  merry  voice  accosted  her  : 

"  Miss  Winstead,  you  appear  again  to  help  me  out  of  a 
difficulty.  This  time  I  want  to  find  the  ticket  office." 

Looking  up,  Bertha  met  the  bright  eyes  of  her  puzzling 
companion  of  the  previous  day. 

"The  ticket  office  is  on  the  other  side  of  the  ladies'  wait- 
ing room,"  she  said  rather  coldly,  pointing  in  the  direction 
as  she  spoke. 

' '  Dear  me,  away  off  there  ! ' '  exclaimed  the  girl  with  a 
little  pout.  "And  there,  just  my  luck!  I  have  left  my 
umbrella  in  the  carriage.  Would  you  be  so  good  as  to  buy 
me  a  ticket  for  Harleytown  while  I  run  to  see  if  the  carriage 
is  there  still  ?  " 

She  held  out  the  money  for  the  ticket  and  Bertha 
mechanically  took  it  and  turned  toward  the  ticket  office. 
She  had  heard  the  Harleytown  train  called  just  before  the 
girl  addressed  her,  and  she  knew  that  there  was  no  time  to 
lose.  When  she  returned,  the  girl  was  standing  where  she 
had  parted  from  her,  but  she  had  no  umbrella. 


242  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"You  did  not  get  your  umbrella,"  said  Bertha,  as  she 
handed  her  the  ticket  and  the  change. 

"  No,  but  it  does  not  matter,"  said  the  girl.  Bertha  was 
going  to  ask  her  name,  but  at  that  moment  the  whistle  of 
an  incoming  train  attracted  her  attention,  and,  glancing  at 
the  clock,  she  saw  that  it  was  just  the  hour  for  the  express 
on  which  Mark  was  to  arrive.  From  the  place  where  they 
stood  she  had  a  good  view  of  the  exit  gate,  and  she  eagerly 
scanned  the  passengers  who  began  to  pour  out  of  it  Very 
soon  she  descried  the  tall  figure  of  Mark  Willoughby  com- 
ing through  the  throng.  He  evidently  saw  her  for  he  came 
directly  toward  her. 

The  eagerness  with  which  he  advanced  and  a  secret 
pleasure  at  the  success  of  her  scheme,  brought  the  blood 
mantling  to  Bertha' s  cheek.  She  held  out  her  hand  as  he 
drew  near  and  he  took  it  with  his  usuaJ  deferential  courtesy  ; 
but  his  eyes  seemed  to  wander  past  her,  and  he  said  : 

"Are  you  going  to  Briarley,  Miss  Winstead  ?  Your 
friend  has  already  gone  through  the  gate." 

' '  Oh,  no, ' '  replied  Bertha.  • '  That  young  lady  is  no 
acquaintance  of  mine,  only  a  forlorn  damsel  apparently  lit- 
tle used  to  traveling,  who  asked  me  to  buy  her  ticket  for 
her  to  Harleytown." 

' '  Indeed, ' '  remarked  the  young  man,  ' '  and  with  your 
usual  kindness  you  assisted  her,  I  have  no  doubt 

"Oh,  yes,  I  could  easily  do  that,"  replied  Bertha  lightly, 
but  she  noticed  that  his  tone  was  preoccupied  and  his 
glance  still  wandered  to  the  gate  for  the  Harleytown  train 
whcih  was  now  just  closing.  She  could  not  own  to  him 
that  she  had  come  there  expressly  to  meet  him;  but  she 
was  nervously  anxious  to  get  her  errand  accomplished,  as 
she  now  saw  all  the  chances  of  interruption  which  she  had 
not  taken  into  account  when  she  laid  her  plan. 


BERTHA    TRIES    TO    HELP  243 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  happened  to  meet  you,"  she  began 
hurriedly,  but  at  the  same  moment  one  of  the  station  offi- 
cials whom  she  knew  by  sight,  passed  by  and  lifted  his  hat 

"Will  you  excuse  me  a  moment?"  said  Mark  quickly. 
"I  want  to  ask  that  man  a  question."  He  darted  off  in- 
stantly, and  she  was  left  for  an  embarrassing  minute  uncer- 
tain whether  to  wait  for  his  return  or  to  walk  on  toward  the 
street.  She  chose  the  latter  course,  and  he  soon  overtook 
her,  but  his  manner  was  hurried  and  preoccupied. 

"  May  I  see  you  to  the  car,  before  I  go  after  my  bag?" 
he  inquired.  "  I  shall  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  calling 
this  evening  to  hear  all  the  news  about  the  musicale." 

Bertha  caught  at  this  promise  and  answered  more  eagerly 
than  she  realized.  ' '  Oh,  please  do  come,  for  I  shall  have 
a  great  deal  to  tell  you  and  some  other  matters  to  ask  your 
advice  upon  also." 

"You  flatter  me,"  he  replied.  "I  shall  come  with 
trepidation,  for  my  advice  is  rarely  asked  and  more  rarely 
taken ;  but  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  shall  bring  an  over- 
whelming stock  of  the  best  I  have  on  hand,  since  you  have 
been  so  kind  as  to  ask  for  it." 

His  tone  was  light  and  jesting,  and  Bertha  was  too  ex- 
cited and  nervous  to  take  it  calmly. 

"Please  do  not  make  fun  of  me,"  she  said,  her  face 
flushing  deeply.  "It  is  a  matter  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance. It  is  about  Mortimer.  He  is  in  trouble  and  only 
you  can  help  him." 

Mark  had  his  eyes  turned  to  the  clock  which  they  were 
just  passing,  and  he  bit  his  lips  impatiently,  then  when  his 
glance  returned  to  her  face  and  he  saw  the  flushed  cheeks 
and  appealing  eyes,  a  very  distinct  though  fleeting  expres- 
sion of  annoyance  flitted  over  his  face  and  he  looked  around 
hurriedly  as  though  he  wanted  to  escape. 


244  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Certainly,  I  will  do  anything  that  I  can.  Remember 
me  to  Mort,"  he  said  hurriedly.  Then,  seeing  a  car  com- 
ing around  the  corner,  he  hailed  it,  and  with  most  courteous 
attention  put  her  on  board. 

As  soon  as  she  was  gone  he  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  and 
hurrying  to  the  ticket  office,  bought  a  ticket  for  Harleytown. 
That  done  he  stopped  at  the  telegraph  office  to  despatch  a 
message,  and  went  back  to  the  baggage  room  to  get  his  bag. 

"I  can't  let  Mort  have  any  money  now,"  he  muttered 
as  he  boarded  the  slow  accommodation  train  that  left  twenty 
minutes  after  the  express  on  which  Bertha' s  unknown  ques- 
tioner had  departed. 

Thus  it  happened  that  at  the  very  time  Mr.  Atherton  was 
making  his  way  to  Mr.  Willoughby's  to  see  Mark  on  his 
arrival,  that  young  man  was  whizzing  off  to  Harleytown. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

MERRIVALE    FARMHOUSE    ROBBED 

MR.  BRANT  was  so  much  concerned  at  the  state  of 
affairs  revealed  to  him  by  Mr.  Lindsay's  questions 
and  Jack' s  replies,  that  he  went  to  the  farmhouse  as  soon 
as  Mr.  Lindsay  had  departed,  to  consult  with  his  wife. 
She  was  delighted  to  have  the  opportunity  to  explain  to 
him  her  scheme  for  the  extrication  of  Mortimer  from  his 
difficult  position,  but  she  was  surprised  to  find  that  her 
husband  raised  some  objections. 

"Mr.  Palmer  is  not  the  man  to  wish  only  to  extort 
money,"  said  he  thoughtfully.  "As  I  take  it,  he  wishes 
to  get  from  Mortimer  a  confession,  and  then  amendment. 
He  is  quite  right  in  this  view  if  Mortimer  really  took  the 
money  ;  but  I  am  far  from  satisfied  that  such  is  the  case." 

"I  am  quite  sure  that  it  is  no  more  the  case  than  that 
you  took  it,"  cried  his  wife  emphatically.  "  I  haven't  had 
to  do  with  boys  all  these  years — and  some  pretty  bad  boys 
too  out  West — without  learning  to  pick  out  an  honest  boy 
when  I  see  him  ;  and  Mortimer  Winstead  is  an  honest 
boy. ' ' 

"That  is  precisely  my  own  opinion,"  replied  her  hus- 
band ;  "but  the  step  which  you  propose  would  be  taken  as 
an  admission  of  his  guilt,  I  fear." 

"Leave  it  to  me  to  manage  that,"  replied  his  wife 
bravely.  "I  am  glad,  now  you  mention  this,  that  I  did 
not  let  Mr.  Lindsay  have  the  money.  No,  I'  11  just  take  it 
myself  to  Mr.  Palmer." 

245 


246  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"I  think  it  would  be  well  to  ascertain  first  whether  it 
might  not  be  more  profitably  employed  for  Mortimer's 
benefit, ' '  said  Mr.  Brant  musingly.  '  •  Did  you  say  any- 
thing about  the  visit  of  this  man  Hamilton  in  your  con- 
versation with  Mr.  Lindsay  ? ' ' 

"No,  I  forgot  all  about  him,"  replied  Mrs.  BranL  "But 
what  can  that  have  to  do  with  this?" 

"I  should  judge  that  Hamilton  entertains  some  ill  will 
toward  the  Winstead  family, ' '  replied  her  husband  slowly. 
"I  have  no  previous  knowledge  of  the  man  to  go  upon  ; 
but  from  what  you  tell  me  of  him  I  am  by  no  means  favor- 
ably impressed,  and  his  own  words  to  you  would  lead  me 
to  draw  that  inference." 

"Of  course.  He  has  got  a  spite  at  them,  and  he  would 
vent  it  any  way  he  could, ' '  exclaimed  Mrs.  Brant  briskly. 
"  It  was  stupid  of  me  not  to  think  of  that  and  tell  Mr.  Lind- 
say." 

"I  think  that  it  would  be  well  to  give  Mr.  Lindsay  some 
idea  of  the  man,  and  of  his  words  to  you,"  replied  Mr. 
Brant ;  ' '  then  the  money  could  be  used  as  seemed  best ; 
for  I  would  gladly  employ  it  in  the  service  of  your  cousin 
and  her  family.  It  would  probably  be  best  that  you  and  I 
should  go  in  to  Mr.  Lindsay's  office  to-morrow." 

"That  will  be  the  very  thing.  You  are  real  smart  to 
think  out  what  ought  to  be  done.  I  had  clean  forgot  about 
Hamilton,"  said  Mrs.  BranL  "  We  will  go  to-morrow." 

But  the  next  day  Helen  was  worse,  and  it  was  impossible 
for  Mrs.  Brant  to  leave  the  house.  Then  came  Sunday, 
and  the  unusual  exertion  of  preaching  for  Mr.  Marshall, 
followed  by  the  mishap  of  being  caught  in  the  shower  on 
leaving  the  church,  brought  back  Mr.  Brant's  cough  suffi- 
ciently to  make  the  doctor,  who  kept  a  friendly  eye  upon 
him,  forbid  him  to  leave  the  house  for  a  day  or  two.  It 


MERRIVALE    FARMHOUSE    ROBBED  247 

had  been  arranged  that  Mr.  Brant  should  return  to  the 
farmhouse  on  Monday,  though  as  yet  Jack  was  not  allowed 
to  come  home,  but  good  Mrs.  Marshall  would  not  hear  of 
Mr.  Brant's  exposing  himself  to  the  sharp  east  wind  that 
was  blowing  on  Monday  morning,  even  for  the  short  walk 
to  the  farmhouse.  Thus  a  note  came  from  the  parsonage 
telling  Mrs.  Brant  that  her  husband  would  not  be  home  till 
the  following  day.  Doctor  Scott  relieved  Mrs.  Brant' s  fears 
by  assuring  her  that  her  husband  would  be  all  right  if  he 
was  careful  for  a  day  or  two. 

Jane  supplemented  his  assurance  with  her  own  quaint 
remarks  : 

"Don't  you  worry,  ma'am,"  she  said.  "He's  in  real 
good  hands.  And  whether  it's  a  bit  of  a  prayer  or  a  dose 
of  physic  anybody  needs,  they  never  in  their  lives  get  them 
better  nor  more  willingly  given  than  at  the  parsonage  from 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marshall" 

"Oh,  do  come  and  sleep  in  my  room,"  urged  Jessica,  who 
had  been  sent  to  occupy  Jack' s  room,  as  far  removed  as 
possible  from  the  one  in  which  Helen  lay.  "  It  is  so  lonely 
over  there,  and  when  the  wind  howls  I  can' t  help  thinking 
that  somebody  is  trying  to  get  in  at  the  hall  window.  It  is 
going  to  be  dreadfully  windy  to-night." 

Mrs.  Brant  laughed  at  Jessica's  fears,  but  she  readily 
consented  to  sleep  with  her  ;  and  when,  as  evening  closed 
in,  she  heard  how  the  east  wind  screamed  around  the  little 
corner  room  and  creaked  the  branches  of  the  old  trees  out- 
side, she  did  not  wonder  much  at  Jessica's  nervousness. 

She  helped  Jane  by  doing  a  little  cooking  for  Helen, 
whom  the  doctor  had  reported  somewhat  easier,  and  then 
she  decided  in  her  own  mind  that  the  next  day,  if  her  hus- 
band was  still  confined  to  the  house,  she  would  go  alone  to 
Harriton  to  see  Mr.  Lindsay.  The  prospect  did  not  look 


248  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

very  favorable  for  Mr.  Brant's  going  to  town  for,  as  the 
dusk  deepened  into  darkness,  rain  began  to  dash  against 
the  window  panes.  It  was  more  than  the  April  shower  of 
the  preceding  day.  for  with  every  hour  the  wind  and  rain 
increased  in  violence,  and  Mrs.  Brant,  partly  yielding  to 
Jessica' s  entreaties  and  partly  urged  by  her  own  weariness, 
went  up  to  bed  early. 

By  ten  o'  clock  the  house  was  dark  and  quiet,  except  for 
the  dim  light  in  the  sick-room.  During  the  daytime  Mrs. 
Winstead  kept  the  doors  of  that  room  bolted  to  avoid  any 
chance  that  Jessica  might  enter  it,  but  at  night  she  always 
slipped  back  the  bolts  that  she  might  not  be  so  completely 
cut  off  from  all  assistance  in  case  of  need.  The  room  was 
a  corner  front  room.  One  door  led  to  the  front  staircase, 
and  the  other  opened  on  a  little  cross  passage  that  sepa- 
rated her  room  from  that  occupied  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant, 
and  led  to  the  kitchen  stairway.  By  this  stairway  Jane 
brought  up  all  that  was  needed  from  the  kitchen,  and  to 
prevent  any  draft  from  affecting  Helen,  Mrs.  Winstead 
had  put  up  a  screen  between  the  bed  and  this  door.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  bed  was  a  lounge,  upon  which  she 
threw  herself  to  take  rest  when  Helen  dozed. 

The  noise  of  the  storm  made  Helen  restless  and  her  fever 
seemed  to  increase  ;  but  at  last  after  a  great  deal  of  weary 
tossing  she  dropped  into  a  doze.  Mrs.  Winstead  wound 
her  watch  and  noted  that  it  was  nearly  eleven  o'  clock  ;  then 
she  lay  down  on  the  lounge  to  rest.  The  rattle  of  the  win- 
dows, as  the  wind  drove  the  rain  against  the  panes,  kept 
her  in  a  nervous  state,  lest  Helen  should  be  startled  from 
her  sleep.  At  last,  however,  she  herself  slipped  into  the 
kind  of  half-waking  sleep  that  sometimes  comes  to  nurses, 
partially  resting  the  brain  while  there  is  still  consciousness 
of  any  movement  of  the  patient. 


MERRIVALE    FARMHOUSE    ROBBED  249 

A  restless  fling  of  the  child's  arms  roused  her  fully,  and 
she  sat  up  and  glanced  at  the  bed.  To  her  eyes  that  had 
been  closed,  the  dim  light  of  the  night-lamp  made  the  room 
quite  distinct,  and  she  noticed  that  the  door,  the  top  of 
which  was  visible  above  the  screen,  was  partly  open. 
Thinking  that  Mrs.  Brant  had  come  in  to  relieve  her 
watch,  as  that  kindly  lady  frequently  offered  to  do,  she  rose 
and  went  around  the  foot  of  the  bed  to  meet  her.  As  she 
reached  the  screen,  a  strong  wind  blew  the  door  wider  open 
with  a  slight  rattle,  but  there  was  no  one  to  be  seen.  The 
noise  roused  Helen,  and  she  called  in  weary,  fretful  tones. 
Her  mother  had  only  time  to  close  the  door  to  keep  out  the 
draft  before  she  hastened  to  Helen's  bedside. 

As  soon  as  the  child  had  been  soothed  and  had  taken 
her  medicine,  Mrs.  Winstead  returned  to  the  door  to  dis- 
cover the  cause  of  the  strong  draft,  but  when  she  opened  it 
all  was  still.  She  slipped  across  the  passage  to  Mrs. 
Brant's  room,  meaning  to  call  her,  but  the  door  of  that 
room  was  closed  ;  there  was  no  answer  to  her  gentle  tap  ; 
and  when  she  tried  to  open  it  softly  it  resisted  her  pressure. 
Again  the  child's  voice  recalled  her  to  her  room  and  she 
hurried  back,  only  stopping  for  a  moment  to  glance  at  her 
watch,  which  lay  on  the  bureau  close  beside  the  door.  It 
was  five  minutes  past  twelve,  and  the  wind  and  rain  were 
still  beating  against  the  house.  A  little  later  in  a  lull  of 
the  storm,  she  heard  distinctly  the  puff,  puff  of  the  train 
that  stopped  at  Briarley  at  fifteen  minutes  past  twelve  on  its 
way  to  Harriton. 

Mrs.  Winstead  was  puzzled  by  the  occurrence,  but  she 
was  soon  too  much  occupied  with  Helen  to  give  it  any  fur- 
ther thought.  The  child  talked  feverishly  and  half  inco- 
herently. The  storm  seemed  to  worry  her,  and  it  took  all 
her  mother' s  tact  and  skill  to  quiet  her.  The  night  wore 


25O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

away  slowly  and  anxiously  for  the  watcher,  and  it  was  a 
blessed  relief  to  her  when,  toward  the  early  hours  of 
morning,  the  wind  died  away  and  the  rain  fell  more  softly. 
Helen  fell  asleep  and  soon  afterward  the  sound  of  Jane' s 
footsteps  going  down  the  kitchen  stair  told  that  the  house- 
hold was  beginning  to  wake  for  a  new  day.  Jane,  who 
was  very  thoughtful  of  her  mistress,  always  brought  a  cup 
of  coffee  to  her  door  as  soon  as  she  got  the  water  to  boil  ; 
but  this  morning  Mrs.  Winstead  heard  her  stumble  over 
the  last  steps  of  the  stair,  and  then  almost  directly  she 
ascended  the  stairs  again  and  appeared  at  the  door  with  all 
the  virtuous  indignation  of  which  an  old  and  trusted  serv- 
ant is  capable,  written  on  her  face. 

"'Deed,  ma'am,  if  this  happens  again  you  an'  me  will 
just  have  to  dance  upon  a  peat,"  she  exclaimed,  her  wrath 
only  made  the  stronger  because  in  deference  to  Mrs.  Win- 
stead'  s  uplifted  finger  of  warning  she  had  to  speak  in  a 
whisper.  "  Here  was  I  that  careful  that  nothing  from  this 
room  should  come  in  the  way  of  any  other  clothes,  and  I 
set  this  basket  here,  just  particular  for  you  to  throw  what 
was  going  to  the  wash  into,  and  here  I  comes  across  these 
towels  flung  careless-like  down  the  back  stairs. ' ' 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  laid  those  towels  in  the  basket,'.'  said 
Mrs.  Winstead,  too  much  startled  to  take  any  offense  at 
Jane's  indignation.  "Who  could  have  moved  them  ?  It 
was  a  very  dangerous  thing  to  do  for  I  used  them  when 
sponging  Helen,  and  there  was  inside  them  the  linen  rags 
that  I  took  off  her  throat  and  wrapped  in  paper  for  you 
to  burn." 

"That's  here,"  said  Jane  as  she  examined  the  basket, 
• '  but  the  two  towels  were  flung  down  the  stairs,  and  near  I 
came  to  breaking  my  neck  over  them  in  the  dark  too." 

"Your  shoes  must  have  been  very  muddy,"  remarked 


MERRIVALE    FARMHOUSE    ROBBED  25! 

Mrs.    Winstead  as  she  inspected  more  carefully  the  towels 
that  Jane  held  in  her  hand. 

Jane  for  sole  reply  stuck  forth  a  good-sized  foot  cased  in 
a  cloth  slipper. 

"How  on  earth  then  did  they  get  so  muddy?"  asked 
Mrs.  Winstead. 

"That's  what  I  would  like  to  know,  ma'am,"  replied 
Jane.  "Somebody  has  wiped  dirty  boots  on  'em." 

"Surely  it  is  not  possible  that  Jack  came  home  yester- 
day without  my  knowing  of  it, "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Winstead 
anxiously. 

"Not  one  foot  has  he  set  in  the  house,"  replied  Jane 
positively.  "  But  these  do  look  for  all  the  world  like  a  pair 
that  he  tied  over  his  muddy  boots  one  night  when  he  and 
Master  Mortimer  had  laid  out  to  scare  me,  and  wanted 
to  steal  down  the  back  stairs  quiet-like." 

It  was  true  that  one  of  the  towels  was  tied  into  a  sort  of 
loose  bag,  and  a  bit  of  string  still  hung  around  it  Mrs. 
Winstead  now  began  to  feel  convinced  that  there  was 
something  wrong  ;  but  the  sight  of  her  watch  lying  undis- 
turbed on  her  bureau  made  her  slow  to  believe  that  a  thief 
could  have  entered  the  house. 

In  obedience  to  her  instructions,  Jane  took  the  cloths  to 
burn  and  the  towels  to  set  to  soak  in  a  bucket,  for  she  was 
not  willing  to  run  any  risk  of  spreading  the  disease  by  let- 
ting them  remain  for  further  inspection.  Then  Jane  went 
to  call  Mrs.  Brant,  and  to  inquire  if  she  had  been  prowl- 
ing about  the  house  by  night,  but  that  good  lady  pooh- 
poohed  the  idea.  Jane  had  returned  to  her  kitchen  and 
was  busy  over  the  breakfast  when  Mrs.  Brant  came  in  with 
a  disturbed  countenance. 

"It  is  all  true  and  I  have  been  robbed,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  had  money  in  a  drawer  in  my  room  and  it  is  all  gone." 


252  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"Bless  us!"  ejaculated  Jane.  "We  might  have  been 
all  murdered  in  our  beds. ' ' 

Mrs.  Brant  was  too  well  used  to  the  chances  of  life  in 
a  rough  Western  town  to  be  as  frightened  as  Jane  and  Jes- 
sica, but  she  was  greatly  distressed  for,  in  addition  to  the 
loss,  all  her  plans  for  helping  Mortimer  were  now  blighted. 

' '  Are  you  quite  sure  that  you  did  not  put  the  money 
somewhere  else  and  forget  about  it  ?  "  asked  Jane. 

Mrs.  Brant  only  beckoned  her  to  come  upstairs  to  her 
room.  The  door  to  the  kitchen  stairway  was  still  locked, 
but  Mrs.  Brant  had  entered  by  another  door,  which  led  to 
the  front  stairs.  Now  as  she  brought  Jane  in,  the  bureau 
drawer  stood  partly  open  and  the  window  too  was  not  fully 
closed,  while  a  wet  spot  on  the  carpet  showed  where  the 
rain  had  been  beating  in.  Jane  was  going  at  once  to  Mrs. 
Winstead,  but  Mrs.  Brant  stopped  her. 

"  Don' t  trouble  her  now, "  she  said.  "We  will  look  if 
anything  else  is  missing,  and  then  I  will  go  over  and  fetch 
Mr.  Brant. 

A  close  search  failed  to  discover  any  further  thieving, 
and  they  were  relieved  from  anxiety  in  that  respect;  but 
Mrs.  Brant  began  to  feel  more  and  more  convinced  that  the 
robbery  was  no  chance  affair. 

Jessica  was  in  the  front  room  and  Jane  was  just  placing 
the  delayed  breakfast  on  the  table,  when  Jessica  called 
from  the  dining-room  window  that  Mr.  Brant  was  coming 
up  the  path.  He  had  come  over  fearing  that  his  wife 
would  take  an  early  train  to  Harriton,  and  knowing  that 
she  was  quite  ignorant  of  the  town. 

' '  I  am  glad  that  I  was  in  time, ' '  he  said,  as  she  opened 
the  door  ;  "  it  is  fine  and  mild,  and  I  think  that  I  can  very 
well  undertake  to  transact  our  business  with  Mr.  Palmer 
and  Mr.  Lindsay." 


MERRIVALE    FARMHOUSE    ROBBED  253 

The  tears  shone  in  his  wife's  bright  eyes  as  she  related  to 
him  the  calamity  of  the  night. 

"It  has  been  somebody  that  knew  I  had  the  money. 
And  I'll  be  bound  that  man  Hamilton  is  at  the  bottom  of 
it  !"  she  exclaimed. 

"We  must  be  cautious  how  we  draw  conclusions,"  said 
her  husband.  "There  is  another  clue  that  came  to  my 
knowledge  last  evening,  and  I  am  anxious  to  consult  with 
Mr.  Lindsay.  But  I  want  to  know  all  that  Mrs.  Winstead 
can  tell  about  this  robbery.  The  man  evidently  entered 
the  room  by  the  grape  trellis  under  our  window,  but  why 
should  he  risk  being  discovered  by  going  into  any  other 
room  ? ' ' 

This  matter  was  settled  at  once  by  the  voice  of  Jane, 
who  had  just  come  downstairs  from  carrying  milk  to  Helen. 

' '  Mrs.  Winstead  whispered  me  that  she  has  missed  twenty 
dollars  that  she  had  in  her  bureau  drawer  last  night  There 
is  not  a  cent  left  in  the  house,  barring  a  little  change  that 
Mrs.  Winstead  had  in  her  pocket,"  cried  Jane  excitedly. 
"  It  was  just  money  the  wretch  was  after,  and  he  had  the 
sense  not  to  touch  a  thing  that  would  be  missed  at  once, 
and  give  a  chance  to  know  him  if  it  was  found  on  him. 
One  greenback  is  just  like  another,  barring  only  that  it's 
dirtier." 

Even  in  her  grief  and  annoyance  Mrs.  Brant  could  not 
restrain  a  laugh  as  she  looked  at  Jane' s  earnest  and  excited 
face,  and  this  final  statement  nearly  put  her  into  a  choking 
fit  Mr.  Brant,  however,  kept  his  composure,  and  having 
made  a  closer  inspection  of  the  premises,  he  announced 
his  intention  of  taking  the  next  train  to  Harriton,  and  on 
his  way  to  the  station  communicating  to  Mr.  Marshall  the 
state  of  affairs. 

"  He  can  tell  whether  it  would  be  of  any  use  to  search 


254  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

the  neighborhood.  But  my  own  impression  is  that  the  man 
would  have  taken  the  first  opportunity  to  get  to  town.  As 
you  say  that  this  all  occurred  before  midnight  by  Mrs. 
Winstead's  watch,  the  probabilities  are  that  he  took  the 
twelve-fifteen  train  to  Harriton.  Keep  cool  and  quiet,  and 
on  account  of  the  sick  child  avoid  all  excitement"  With 
this  advice  he  took  his  departure. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

MARK   WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED 

MR.  ATHERTON'S  interest  in  the  affairs  of  Mortimer 
Winstead  had  led  him  to  take  unusual  pains  to  get 
at  the  solution  of  the  mystery  that  seemed  destined  to 
blight  the  young  man's  prospects.  Perhaps  if  the  whole 
truth  was  admitted,  there  might  have  been  a  stronger  inter- 
est than  he  felt  in  Mortimer  that  spurred  him  on;  but  if 
there  was,  he  took  no  one  into  his  confidence.  From  the 
office  boy  he  could  learn  nothing  that  seemed  to  give  any 
clue.  The  boy  seemed  very  much  frightened  and  only  re- 
peated that  he  did  not  know  the  name  of  the  gentleman 
who  gave  him  the  letter  to  post;  but  he  had  met  him  after- 
ward evidently  coming  away  from  the  office,  and  there 
seemed  no  reason  to  doubt  that  it  was  Mr.  Appleby.  That 
gentleman  could  not  be  seen  to  deny  or  corroborate  the  de- 
duction, as  he  had  left  Harriton  as  soon  as  his  business 
with  Palmer  &  Davenant  was  concluded,  and  no  one 
knew  where  he  was. 

Mr.  Palmer  began  to  look  with  irritation  upon  the  inves- 
tigations, for  poor  Mortimer,  in  his  anxiety  and  distress, 
was  really  working  unconsciously  against  his  own  interests. 
He  no  longer  had  a  ready,  pleasant  smile  for  his  employers, 
and  in  one  or  two  instances  he  had  made  slight  blunders  in 
his  work  that  annoyed  the  precise  business  man.  Mr. 
Willoughby  had  eagerly  seized  upon  his  sister's  suggestion 
that  Mark  might  have  the  vacant  place,  and  he  lost  no  op- 
portunity to  set  Mark  in  a  favorable  light  and  to  make 

255 


256  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

known  his  distrust  of  Mortimer  in  Mr.  Palmer' s  presence. 
In  addition  to  all  this,  just  when  Mortimer  was  losing  heart 
and  favor,  Mr.  Palmer  received  a  short  note  from  Mark, 
giving  him  information  that  enabled  him  to  take  a  very 
important  order. 

"See  here  !"  he  exclaimed  to  Mr.  Davenant.  "  This  is 
the  fellow  for  us.  He  has  put  more  money  in  our  pockets 
in  this  one  day  than  young  Winstead  has  in  all  the  years 
that  we  have  employed  him.  Mark  has  a  good  head  for 
business.  His  father  doesn't  understand  how  to  manage  a 
high-spirited  young  fellow  like  that.  He  gets  down  on  him, 
and  then  there  is  trouble;  but  let  me  have  the  boy  here 
and  I'  11  engage  that  I'  11  turn  him  out  a  first-rate  man  of 
business,  and  he  will  be  able  to  buy  out  his  father  before 
he  gets  anywhere  near  his  father' s  present  age. ' ' 

Guy  Atherton  was  sharp  enough  to  see  the  way  the  wind 
was  blowing,  but  he  held  firmly  to  his  belief  that  if  he 
could  talk  with  Mark  all  would  be  set  straight,  and  Mr. 
Lindsay  as  firmly  held  the  opposite  opinion.  Thus  it  was 
Guy  and  not  Mr.  Lindsay  who  found  out  from  Kate  the 
hour  that  Mark  was  expected  home,  and  it  was  Guy  who 
went  to  meet  him.  As  Mark  did  not  appear,  Guy  went 
next  to  the  station,  and  the  first  person  he  ran  across  was 
Clark,  the  gatekeeper.  In  response  to  Guy's  inquiry 
whether  the  four  o'clock  express  had  come  in  on  time, 
Clark  assured  him  that  it  had  come  in  on  the  minute. 

"  Were  you  looking  for  a  friend  ?"  asked  the  man.  He 
did  not  know  Guy  personally,  but  he  knew  him  by  name. 

"Yes,"  replied  Guy.  "I  thought  that  young  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby  would  come  in  on  that  train  ;  but  I  suppose  he 
missed  it." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Clark.  "He  did  come 
in  on  it,  for  he  spoke  to  me.  I  passed  him  when  he  was 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  257 

talking  to  Miss  Winstead,  and  he  ran  after  me  to  ask  me 
when  the  next  train  left  for  Harleytown. ' ' 

Guy  bit  his  mustache  vindictively,  but  he  only  said,  "I 
am  sorry  that  I  did  not  get  here  earlier.  I  wanted  to  see 
him  ;  but  I  suppose  if  he  has  gone  to  Harleytown  he  will 
hardly  come  back  to-night" 

' '  I  can' t  say  what  he  went  for  ;  I  was  not  on  duty  when 
that  train  went  out,"  replied  Clark.  "Mr.  Dayton,  at  the 
ticket  office,  might  tell  you,  for  he  knows  Mr.  Willoughby 
well,  and  would  know  if  he  bought  a  ticket ' ' 

"Thank  you.  It  does  not  signify,"  said  Guy.  "My 
business  must  wait  till  to-morrow."  But  as  he  turned 
away  and  walked  past  the  ticket  office,  he  noticed  that  there 
was  no  crowd  there  ;  and  as  he  knew  Mr.  Dayton,  he 
stopped  and  inquired  if  Mark  Willoughby  had  bought  a 
ticket  for  Harleytown. 

"  Harleytown  ?  Why,  yes  ;  there  was  a  rush  for  Harley- 
town this  afternoon,  Mr.  Atherton,"  said  Mr.  Dayton,  who 
liked  to  joke  when  he  was  not  too  busy.  "  Miss  Winstead 
came  in  a  hurry  to  get  a  ticket  for  Harleytown  before  the 
four-five  express  left,  and  a  little  while  later  along  comes 
Mark  Willoughby  to  get  a  ticket  for  the  four-twenty-five 
accommodation.  A  case  of  '  follow  my  leader, '  hey  ? ' ' 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Guy  sharply. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  replied  the  other  man;  "I  was  only 
joking.  One  hears  gossip,  you  know." 

"No,  I  am  too  busy  with  business  for  that,"  replied 
Guy,  trying  to  pass  off  his  sharpness  with  a  smile.  "Well, 
I  guess  I  must  let  Mark  hunt  me  up  now,  for  I  am  not  in- 
clined to  goto  Harleytown  to-night"  Then  with  a  pleas- 
ant good-evening  he  went  out,  biting  his  mustache  more 
vindictively  than  before. 

"It  is  just  what  I  expected,"    said  Mr.  Lindsay,  when 
R 


258  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Guy  returned  and  made  his  report,  only  omitting  the  men- 
tion of  Bertha's  name.  "Now  the  next  thing  is  to  see 
Mrs.  Brant ;  for  if  we  don' t  look  sharp,  Mr.  Palmer  will 
just  shake  Mortimer  off.  We  must  get  that  money  paid, 
and  then  we  shall  have  time  to  look  about  us  ;  for  Mr. 
Palmer  is  a  man  of  his  word,  and  he  can' t  very  well  go  back 
on  his  promise,  though  I  see  that  he  would  like  to  do  it." 

"We  must  get  hold  of  Hamilton,"  said  Guy. 

"Very  true  ;  but  that  will  take  time  ;  and  first  of  all  we 
must  be  sure  that  Mortimer  will  not  be  shipped  off  so  soon 
as  Mark  gets  back,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "Of  course  we 
may  fail  in  that ;  but  if  I  did  not  give  Mrs.  Brant  her 
opportunity,  she  would  never  forgive  me.  She  was  so 
anxious  to  help  Mortimer  and  his  mother." 

"We  can't  do  anything  to-night,"  said  Guy  wearily, 
"and  I  am  tired  out  with  running  about.  It  is  going  to 
be  a  wretched  night,  and  the  sooner  we  get  home  the 
better. ' ' 

"Come  around  in  good  time  in  the  morning,  and  I'll  run 
out  to  Briarley,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay,  and  thus  they  parted. 

The  next  morning  the  trip  to  Briarley  was  rendered  un- 
necessary by  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Brant  and  Mr.  Mar- 
shall, the  latter  having  come  to  act  as  guide  to  his  friend. 
On  hearing  of  the  robbery,  Mr.  Lindsay  made  many 
inquiries  as  to  how  it  could  have  been  perpetrated,  and 
then  he  remarked  : 

"  I  hope  that  Mrs.  Brant  will  not  take  this  too  deeply  to 
heart,  for  really  I  doubt  if  the  money  would  have  done  any 
good.  Mr.  Palmer  is,  I  feel  sure,  prejudiced  against  Mor- 
timer by  this  time,  and  strongly  inclined  to  prefer  Mark." 

Mr.  Marshall,  who  had  learned  of  all  the  trouble  for  the 
first  time  this  morning,  was  inclined  to  disagree  with  Mr. 
Lindsay. 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  259 

"I  have  known  Mr.  Palmer  for  years,"  he  said  ;  "and 
although  not,  I  regret  to  say,  a  Christian  man,  I  have  always 
observed  in  him  a  strict  love  of  justice." 

"My  dear  sir,"  retorted  Mr.  Lindsay,  "it  is  exactly 
because  Mr.  Palmer  considers  it  to  be  an  act  of  justice 
that  he  will  discharge  Mortimer.  It  appears  to  me  that  the 
man  called  Hamilton  and  Mark  Willoughby  are  playing 
this  game  to  ruin  Mortimer  ;  and  we  can' t  get  hold  of  either 
of  them.  I  should  not  be  the  least  surprised  to  learn  that 
Hamilton  knew  something  of  that  robbery  last  night" 

"He  certainly  knew  that  my  wife  had  money  in  the 
house,  for  she  incautiously  told  him  that,"  admitted  Mr. 
Brant ;  ' '  but  I  am  inclined  to  the  belief  that  another  may 
be  implicated  in  this  matter.  Last  evening  as  I  was  sitting 
at  the  window,  being  as  I  have  mentioned  at  the  house  of 
my  friend  Mr.  Marshall  and  confined  to  the  house  with  a 
cold,  I  saw  a  man  pass  along  the  road  who  reminded  me  so 
strongly  of  a  man  I  knew  in  Silverbush  that  I  am  almost 
prepared  to  affirm  that  it  was  the  same  man  Graves." 

Mr.  Atherton,  who  had  hitherto  taken  no  part  in  the  con- 
versation, now  turned  quickly  : 

"That  is  the  very  man  I  have  had  in  my  mind  all  along. 
Can  you  put  me  on  his  track  ? "  he  asked. 

"No,"  replied  Mr.  Brant,  "for  I  only  had  that  passing 
glimpse  ;  and  he  appeared  to  be  coming  from  the  station." 

"Have  you  seen  Hamilton?"   asked  Mr.  Atherton. 

"No,"  replied  Mr.  Brant.  "I  was  not  in  the  house 
when  he  called  on  my  wife." 

"Did  Mrs.  Brant  know  Graves?"   asked  Mr.  Atherton. 

"Yes;  she  has  seen  him  in  Silverbush,"  said  Mr. 
Brant.  ' '  Not  as  frequently  as  I  did,  for  he  came  rarely  to 
my  house  ;  and  she  was  not  out  among  the  miners  as  I  con- 
stantly was." 


26O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"Still  she  would  know  him,"  remarked  Mr.  Atherton, 
with  a  disappointed  drop  in  his  voice,  which  had  been 
eager  and  hopeful  before. 

' '  That  is  a  clue  worth  following  up,  if  you  have  reasons 
for  supposing  it.  Is  Graves  the  kind  of  man  who  would 
break  into  a  house  ?  ' '  put  in  Mr.  Lindsay. 

"Oh,  he  is  a  thorough  rascal,  capable  of  anything,"  said 
Mr.  Brant  and  Mr.  Atherton  almost  simultaneously  ;  but  at 
the  same  moment  the  office  door  opened  and  a  gentleman 
entered  in  such  haste  that  he  began  to  speak  before  he 
noticed  that  there  were  others  besides  Mr.  Lindsay  and  Mr. 
Atherton  in  the  room  : 

' '  I  say,  Lindsay,  have  you  heard  the  news  ? ' '  Then  he 
stopped  and  glanced  at  the  others. 

Mr.  Lindsay  turning,  recognized  Mr.  Davenant,  and  ris- 
ing, held  out  his  hand. 

"I  need  not  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  said,  as 
they  shook  hands  ;  ' '  but  I  do  not  know  whether  you  have 
met  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brant,  who  is  with  his  wife  on  a  visit  to 
Mrs.  Winstead  at  Briarley.  Mr.  Brant,  let  me  introduce 
Mr.  Davenant." 

"The  name  is  sufficiently  familiar  to  me,  but  I  have 
never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  Brant,"  said  Mr. 
Davenant  with  a  smile,  as  he  cordially  greeted  the  gentle- 
men. 

A  few  commonplace  remarks  followed,  and  Mr.  Dave- 
nant's  eyes  kept  returning  to  study  Mr.  Brant's  face  with  a 
curious  expression,  but  he  was  interrupted  with  the  query  : 

"  What  is  the  news  that  you  were  bringing?" 

"Oh,  it  is  about  Mark  Willoughby,"  said  Mr.  Davenant 

"Is  he  home?"    inquired  Guy  eagerly. 

"Home?     No.      He's  married,"  said  Mr.  Davenant. 

As  all  the  gentlemen  who  were  present  knew  more  or 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  26 1 

less  about  Mark,  each  turned  with  interest  to  hear  what  was 
to  follow. 

"I  did  not  know  there  was  an  engagement,"  remarked 
Mr.  Lindsay.  "  It  must  have  been  settled  pretty  quickly." 

"You  are  right  there,"  said  Mr.  Davenant  emphatically  ; 
"he  was  expected  home  last  evening,  but  did  not  come. 
This  morning  there  came  a  telegram  from  Harleytown  that 
he  is  married." 

"An  elopement!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Lindsay  in  amaze- 
ment • '  What  can  have  possessed  him  ?  Who  is  the 
bride?" 

"He  does  not  say.  His  sister  received  a  telegram  this 
morning  saying  that  he  was  married  and  bidding  her  break 
it  to  his  father  discreetly,"  said  Mr.  DavenanL  "Dis- 
creetly indeed  !  Why,  Mr.  Willoughby  is  in  a  towering 
rage.  I  just  met  him  on  the  street  and  happened  to  ask  if 
Mark  was  home,  and  he  fairly  foamed,  and  blurted  out  the 
state  of  affairs  to  me.  I  believe  he  fancies  it  is  some  girl 
whose  family  he  doesn'  t  approve  of ;  but  at  any  rate  I 
thought  1  would  just  stop  in  and  tell  you,  for  you  maybe 
would  have  influence  with  him  to  calm  him  down  a  little. 
It  is  of  no  use  to  make  a  row  and  say  things  in  public  that 
one  maybe  would  like  to  take  back  a  little  later.  The  boy 
isn't  a  bad  boy  ;  but  really  Willoughby  doesn't  manage 
him  right" 

"  Hem,  I've  got  an  appointment — "  began  Mr.  Lindsay. 
"But  see  here,  Atherton,"  and  he  turned  to  find  that  Guy 
had  vanished.  "Does  Mr.  Palmer  know  of  this?"  he 
asked  thoughtfully. 

"I  don't  suppose  he  does,"  replied  Mr.  Davenant  "I 
was  going  to  the  office  now,  for  I  knew  he  wanted  to  see 
Mark  this  morning." 

' '  A  moment  does  not  signify,  does  it  ?  "   said  Mr.  Lind- 


262  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

say.  ' '  You  are  the  very  person  that  these  gentlemen  and 
myself  want  to  talk  to."  He  then  began  as  Mr.  Davenant 
willingly  settled  himself  in  an  arm-chair  and  recounted  to 
him  all  their  suspicions  of  Hamilton  and  his  own  convic- 
tion that  Hamilton  was  trying  to  ruin  Mortimer. 

"He  is  a  scamp  ;  and  he  swindled  Mortimer's  father, 
though  Mr.  Winstead  was  such  a  poor  man  of  business  that 
there  was  no  way  to  get  hold  of  Hamilton  and  bring  him  to 
justice.  Still,  knowing  the  inner  working  of  the  matter  as 
I  did,  I  knew  that  Hamilton  was  a  complete  rogue." 

Mr.  Lindsay  spoke  very  impressively  ;  and  Mr.  Davenant, 
who  had  begun  to  lose  remembrance  of  his  resentment  at 
Mortimer's  wound  to  his  self-esteem,  now  let  his  naturally 
easy  and  kindly  nature  predominate.  He  pulled  his 
whiskers  meditatively  and  replied  slowly  : 

' '  I  don' t  take  much  active  part  in  the  matter  of  selecting 
those  in  our  employ.  My  partner  has  always  attended  to 
that,  and  I  must  say  has  shown  great  discernment  of  char- 
acter. Still  if  you  were  to  represent  to  him  these  facts  as 
you  have  stated  them  to  me,  he  would  no  doubt  give  them 
all  due  consideration,  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  do  young 
Winstead  any  injustice,  and  so  would  my  partner  ;  but 
business  is  business  and  must  be  regarded  before  mere 
friendliness  and  —  and  so  forth,"  ended  Mr.  Davenant 
rather  lamely. 

"Your  suggestion  is  a  good  one  and  we  will  act  upon  it," 
said  Mr.  Lindsay  ;  ' '  and  we  can  count  upon  your  good 
word  with  Mr.  Palmer,  I  hope." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  responded  Mr.  Davenant  with 
alacrity.  "I  shall  be  heartily  rejoiced  if  the  young  man 
can  be  completely  cleared. ' ' 

He  rose  as  he  spoke  and  turned  to  say  good-bye  to  the 
other  gentlemen,  but  his  glance  rested  on  Mr.  Brant  even 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  263 

while  he  was  speaking  to  Mr.  Marshall,  and  when  he  held 
out  his  hand  to  Mr.  Brant,  he  said  : 

"  I  hope  that  I  shall  see  you  again.  I  shall  call  upon 
you  at  Briarley  if  you  will  permit ' ' 

'*  It  would  afford  me  great  pleasure,"  replied  Mr.  Brant ; 
"but  just  at  present  there  is  serious  illness  in  the  family  of 
Mrs.  Winstead,  and  on  account  of  your  little  girl  you  would 
probably  do  well  to  avoid  coming  to  her  house.  Diphtheria 
is  much  to  be  dreaded." 

"Ah,  thank  you  for  the  warning,"  said  Mr.  Davenant ; 
"but  I  hope  that  all  danger  will  soon  be  over  and  the  illness 
will  only  delay  my  visit  for  a  short  time. ' ' 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone  Mr.  Lindsay  was  impatient  to  see 
Mr.  Palmer,  thinking  that  now  when  he  was  disappointed 
in  Mark  would  be  a  most  favorable  moment  to  press  all 
that  might  be  said  in  favor  of  Mortimer.  Mr.  Atherton'  s 
continued  absence  chafed  him,  as  he  could  not  leave  the 
office  unless  he  was  sure  that  Guy  would  attend  to  matters 
that  required  one  or  the  other  of  them  to  be  present 

' '  Why  should  not  Mr.  Brant  and  myself  go  to  Mr.  Pal- 
mer' s  office  ? ' '  inquired  Mr.  Marshall. 

"That  would  effect  all  that  is  necessary,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay.  "He  is  above  all  things  a  just  man,  and  I  am 
sure  that  he  would  listen  to  what  you  can  tell  him  and 
defer  any  immediate  action." 

"  I  would  rather  hear  that  he  was  a  Christian  man,"  said 
Mr.  Brant  ;  "human  justice  is  prone  to  err,  and  we  sadly 
need  the  guidance  that  the  Christian  is  promised  to  ensure 
that  we  shall  execute  judgment  aright" 

Mr.  Lindsay  only  bowed  politely,  as  though  he  considered 
this  the  proper  way  for  a  clergyman  to  talk,  but  did  not 
place  much  faith  in  it  himself.  Then  he  gave  the  two 
gentlemen  all  the  suggestions  that  he  thought  might  be 


264  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

useful  to  them,  and  they  bade  him  good-bye  and  turned 
their  steps  to  Mr.  Palmer' s  office. 

When  Mr.  Davenant,  who  had  left  before  them  and 
walked  more  rapidly,  arrived  at  his  office,  he  found  his 
partner  in  a  state  of  unusual  exultation.  Mortimer  was  not 
at  his  desk  and  only  the  bookkeeper  was  visible  in  the 
outer  office. 

' '  That  boy  will  be  worth  his  weight  in  gold  to  us, ' '  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Palmer  as  his  partner  entered  the  inner  office. 
' '  See  here,  Davenant,  what  he  has  saved  us  to-day. ' ' 

' '  Who  ?    Winstead  ? ' '    inquired  Mr.  Davenant. 

"Winstead  !  Nonsense  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Palmer  sharply. 
"I  have  discharged  him.  I  am  talking  of  Mark."  He 
then  went  on  to  tell  Mr.  Davenant  that  he  had  received  a 
telegram  from  Mark  the  evening  before  advising  him  to 
collect  a  large  check  that  he  had  received  from  a  firm  with 
whom  he  had  extensive  dealings. 

' '  I  did  not  understand  the  matter,  but  one  never  loses  by 
being  over  prompt,"  said  Mr.  Palmer.  "I  was  on  hand 
as  soon  as  the  bank  opened  and  my  check  was  cashed  and 
safely  transferred  to  our  credit,  and  not  half  an  hour  later 
Neal  &  Co.'s  checks  were  coming  in  fast  and  going  to  pro- 
test as  quick  as  they  were  presented." 

Mr.  Davenant  gave  a  low,  annoyed  whistle. 

"  Now  I  am  sorry  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Harry  Neal  told 
me  only  yesterday  that  they  were  getting  rather  heavily  run 
upon.  He  said  somebody  was  spreading  reports  to  try  to 
injure  their  credit  and  he  asked  me  if  we  would  hold  that 
check  a  day  or  two,  as  it  was  one  of  the  heaviest  out.  I 
promised  him  that  I  would  see  you  about  it.  It  never 
occurred  to  me  that  you  would  be  in  such  a  hurry  and  I 
meant  to  tell  you  as  soon  as  you  came  to  the  office." 

Mr.  Palmer  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  little  laugh. 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  265 

"Don't  worry  yourself,"  he  said.  "That  is  always  the 
cry  when  a  firm  gets  into  difficulties.  We  are  lucky  to  be 
well  out  of  the  affair  without  loss." 

Mr.  Davenant  still  looked  annoyed,  but  he  changed  the 
subject  by  inquiring,  "What  did  you  say  about  Mortimer 
Winsjead  ?" 

"I  have  discharged  him,"  replied  Mr.  Palmer  curtly. 
"  I  shall  put  Mark  in  his  place  this  very  day." 

' '  You  can' t  Mark  is  not  likely  to  be  here  to-day  nor 
to-morrow  either,"  said  Mr.  Davenant,  curtly  enough  in 
his  turn.  "The  fellow  has  run  off  and  got  married." 

"What?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Palmer,  sitting  bolt  upright  in 
his  amazement  "Married  did  you  say?  When  was 
that?" 

"Last  evening,"  replied  Mr.  Davenant  "He  tele- 
graphed to  his  sister  ;  and  Mr.  Willoughby  is  pretty  well 
heated  up  about  it" 

"I'll  bet  he  is,"  cried  Mr.  Palmer.  "Well,  well,  well  ! 
Mark  is  a  sharp  fellow,  and  no  mistake.  I  suppose  of 
course  the  girl  is  Juliet  Erskine.  Her  father  has  a  pretty 
fortune  rolled  up  for  her,  and  she  is  the  only  child.  •  He  is 
a  sharp  fellow !  And  to  think  that  when  he  was  on  the  way 
to  get  married  he  stopped  to  telegraph  to  me  about  Neal  & 
Co.,  and  saved  us  that  loss  !  His  will  be  the  best  business 
head  among  us.  I  was  badly  cut  up  at  first  when  I  found 
that  I  had  been  fooled  in  Mortimer  Winstead ;  but  now  I 
see  that  it  is  all  working  out  well.  Mark  will  be  worth  ten 
times  what  Mortimer  would  ever  have  been  worth  to  us." 

"All  that  may  be  true,  yet  it  is  a  question  of  justice," 
urged  his  partner,  who  now  felt  all  his  sympathies  with 
Mortimer  and  a  decided  dislike  to  Mark  for  his  interference 
in  the  Neal  business. 

"Of  course  it  is  a  question   of  justice,"   retorted  Mn 


266  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Palmer  sharply.  • '  No  man  can  accuse  me  of  having  done 
an  unjust  action  to  any  of  my  employees." 

Mr.  Davenantwas  irritated  and  matters  did  not  look  par- 
ticularly agreeable  between  the  two  partners,  when  the 
bookkeeper  entered  to  announce  that  Mr.  Marshall  and  Mr. 
Brant  were  waiting  in  the  outer  office.  The  interruption 
was  opportune  to  both  the  partners,  but  when  Mr.  Palmer 
heard  the  errand  on  which  the  clergymen  had  come,  he 
very  politely  but  very  unmistakably  gave  them  to  under- 
stand that  he  did  not  agree  with  them. 

"There  are  no  proofs,  sir,  no  proofs  at  all.  All  that  you 
say  about  Hamilton's  character  I  am  quite  willing  to  con- 
cede ;  but  that  does  not  clear  the  character  of  the  young 
man  who  would  have  dealings  with  a  rascal  of  that  sort" 

' '  I  myself  have  had  only  a  short  acquaintance  with 
Mortimer  Winstead,"  said  Mr.  Brant,  in  his  slow  deliber- 
ate tones;  "but  I  have  seen  evidences  of  earnest  Christian 
spirit  in  him  that  lead  me  to  doubt  greatly  whether  he  could 
so  far  have  belied  his  profession  as  to  enter  into  dealings 
with  a  rascal,  and  the  lad  himself  denies  all  complicity  with 
Hamilton.  Mr.  Marshall  here,  who  is  the  young  man's 
pastor  and  friend  can  speak  from  longer  experience  than  I." 

He  turned  to  Mr.  Marshall  as  he  said  these  words  and 
that  gentleman  warmly  upheld  Mr.  Brant's  opinion. 

"I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  judge  of  Christian  qualities," 
said  Mr.  Palmer  coldly.  "That  has  nothing  to  do  with 
business.  All  I  ask  of  my  employees  is  unblemished  busi- 
ness integrity,  and  I  on  my  part  accord  to  them  the  strictest 
and  most  impartial  justice." 

"The  vicissitudes  of  my  life  have  thrown  me  in  contact 
with  men  of  different  occupations  and  very  different  char- 
acters, ' '  said  Mr.  Brant,  ' '  and  I  cannot  say  that  I  have 
found  that  Christian  qualities  have  nothing  to  do  with  busi- 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  26/ 

ness.  I  do  not  think  that  you  yourself,  sir,  would  find  the 
best  employee  of  much  use  to  you  if  he  did  not  know  or 
would  not  acknowledge  for  whom  he  worked. ' ' 

"  I  do  not  follow  you, ' '  said  Mr.  Palmer. 

"  Our  Master  Christ  requires  of  us  that  we  should  both 
know  him  and  live  close  to  him.  If  we  fail  in  this,  how 
can  we,  while  treating  our  Chief  with  injustice,  hope  to  act 
with  justice  to  our  fellow-workers?"  Mr.  Brant's  quiet 
voice  and  kindly  courteous  manner  made  it  impossible  to 
take  offense  where  so  clearly  none  was  meant,  but  Mr. 
Palmer  answered  politely  : 

"I  respect  your  principles,  sir,  and  I  should  be  glad  if 
all  clergymen  were  as  well  fitted  for  their  office  as  yourself 
and  my  good  friend  Mr.  Marshall  ;  but  as  I  said  before  I 
am  no  judge  of  such  matters,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  con- 
sider me  discourteous,  if  I  suggest  that  you  might  make  the 
same  admission  as  to  your  ability  to  judge  of  matters  con- 
cerning my  business." 

"  It  would  do  me  no  harm,  and  might  be  useful,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Brant,  "  if  I  knew  more  of  the  temporal  mat- 
ters connected  with  your  business.  And  is  it  not  of  vastly 
more  importance  that  you  should  know  something  of  these 
spiritual  matters  which  so  nearly  concern  every  man' s  future 
welfare  ? ' ' 

"Ah,  there  sir,  you  must  talk  to  my  wife,"  said  Mr. 
Palmer  with  a  smile.  "She  attends  to  the  religion  of  our 
household  and  I  never  interfere  with  her  in  her  own  do- 
main." Then  rising  as  if  to  put  an  end  to  the  discussion, 
he  said,  "  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry,  about  young  Winstead, 
and  still  more  sorry  to  disappoint  you  and  Mr.  Brant;  but 
strict  justice  compels  me  to  act  as  I  have  done,  and  Win- 
stead  is  no  longer  in  my  employ.  I  bade  Mr.  Johnson,  our 
bookkeeper,  settle  with  him  this  morning." 


268  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mr.  Davenant  still  looked  annoyed  and  gloomy,  but  he 
said  nothing;  and  there  was  nothing  left  for  the  two  friends 
but  to  take  their  leave  with  heavy  hearts. 

"We  would  better  stop  again  at  Mr.  Lindsay's,"  said 
Mr.  Marshall.  "He  may  suggest  some  means  of  getting 
Mortimer  another  position." 

Mr.  Brant  however  was  very  anxious  to  get  home,  as  he 
saw  that  he  could  do  no  more  good  in  town  and  the  rob- 
bery had  made  him  feel  uneasy  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
his  wife  and  Mrs.  Winstead  alone.  He  therefore  requested 
Mr.  Marshall  to  leave  him  at  the  station,  and  to  go  on  to 
Mr.  Lindsay's  alone;  and  Mr.  Marshall  agreed  to  this. 

Mr.  Lindsay  was  vexed  with  the  ill  success  of  their  errand 
and  surprised  when  he  learned  that  Mark  was  still  in  favor 
with  Mr.  Palmer. 

"  I  overheard  some  words  between  Mr.  Palmer  and  Mr. 
Davenant  as  we  were  waiting  for  the  bookkeeper  to  announce 
us,"  said  Mr.  Marshall,  "and  Mr.  Palmer  seems  to  think 
well  of  this  marriage.  He  said  that  the  lady,  Miss  Erskine, 
was  the  daughter  of  a  very  rich  man." 

"Oh,  is  that  the  way  of  it?"  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "Now 
I  understand  Mr.  Willoughby'  s  anger  ;  he  can' t  bear  Mr. 
Erskine. ' ' 

'  •  The  young  man  has  impressed  Mr.  Palmer  most  favor- 
ably with  his  business  ability,"  continued  Mr.  Marshall 
•  But  Mr.  Davenant  did  not  look  so  well  satisfied  as  his 
partner,  and  I  think  would  willingly  have  said  a  word  for 
Mortimer  if  it  had  been  possible  ;  but  of  course,  when  the 
lad  is  already  dismissed  there  is  nothing  to  be  done." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Mr.  Lindsay  cheerfully.  "We  are  not 
quite  despondent  yet.  Guy  Atherton  is  a  clever  fellow  and 
he  means  to  ferret  this  out.  He  may  come  in  with  news 
any  moment" 


MARK  WILLOUGHBY    MARRIED  269 

"  I  hope  that  the  Lord  will  make  plain  to  us  what  we 
ought  to  do,"  said  the  clergyman  ;  "I  am  mainly  anxious 
that  this  should  not  have  an  evil  effect  on  Mortimer' s  char- 
acter. He  was  unusually  steady  and  self-reliant  for  one  so 
young,  and  I  fear  lest  the  injustice  may  embitter  him  and 
make  him  less  careful." 

"Why  not  go  and  have  a  talk  with  him?"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay.  "  It  will  do  him  good  to  see  an  old  friend  like 
yourself. ' ' 

Mr.  Marshall  willingly  acted  upon  this  suggestion,  and 
bade  good-bye  to  the  little  lawyer,  while  Mr.  Lindsay  re- 
turned to  his  writing,  with  an  occasional  impatient  glance 
at  the  door  to  see  if  Guy  was  in  sight.  It  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  when  Guy  returned,  and  he  looked  worn  and  dis- 
pirited. In  answer  to  Mr.  Lindsay's  questions  he  only 
replied  shortly  that  he  washed  his  hands  of  the  whole 
affair. 

"Come,  come,  don't  be  so  easily  discouraged, "  said  Mr. 
Lindsay.  "I  own  that  I  feel  more  inclined  to  believe  that 
Mark  will  do  the  square  thing  now,  for  he  has  got  such  a 
rich  wife  that  he  can  afford  to  lose  Mr.  Palmer' s  favor,  and 
certainly  he  does  not  want  Mortimer's  place  in  that  office." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  exclaimed  Guy  impa- 
tiently. "It  is  no  time  for  joking.  You  know  very  well 
that  she  has  nothing  of  her  own  and  very  slim  expectations 
if  that  young  man  in  Colorado  chooses  to  make  a  fight  for 
a  share  of  the  property." 

"Why,  man  alive,  Mark  has  married  Juliet  Erskine,  the 
daughter  of  the  millionaire  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Lindsay. 
"Mr.  Marshall  heard  Mr.  Palmer  say  it." 

' '  Then  Mr.  Palmer  is  off  on  the  wrong  scent, ' '  said  Guy 
moodily.  "  I  heard  at  the  station  last  night  that  Mark 
Willoughby  had  gone  to  Harleytown  after  Miss  Winstead, 


2/O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

who  had  bought  a  ticket  for  that  place  just  before  he  did, 
and  he  was  seen  talking  with  her  in  the  station  before  the 
train  left" 

"Humbug  !"  cried  Mr.  Lindsay.  " Bertha Winstead  is 
a  headstrong  little  puss,  but  she  is  not  the  girl  to  do  a  thing 
of  that  sort  That  is  not  the  way  Mrs.  Winstead  brings  up 
her  children.  You  go  around  to  Miss  Halsey's  this  even- 
ing and  have  a  talk  with  Mortimer  over  this  muddle,  and 
I'll  wager  anything  that  you  will  hear  some  of  Miss 
Bertha's  best  music." 

"  I  have  just  come  from  there,"  said  Guy  almost  fiercely, 
"and  Miss  Rebecca  Halsey  told  me  that  she  had  not  come 
home,  and  they  were  worried  about  her  ;  and  Miss  Clive 
had  gone  to  some  of  the  houses  of  her  pupils  to  inquire." 

Mr.  Lindsay  drew  in  his  breath  with  a  long  whistle. 

"When  did  she  leave  home  ?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  stop  to  ask  all  particulars,"  replied  Guy. 
"Besides,  poor  Miss  Rebecca  was  in  a  grand  fluster,  and 
had  been  crying  over  Mortimer's  dismissal  and  over  a  let- 
ter from  Merrivale  telling  them  the  child  was  worse  and 
something  about  the  robbery.  It  was  no  good  to  cross- 
question  the  poor  soul.  There  !"  he  added  with  a  sudden 
shake  of  his  shoulders,  "I  can't  do  any  more  in  this  busi- 
ness ;  so  don't  let  us  talk  of  it  any  more.  Just  give  me 
those  papers  on  the  Jerrold  case,  won't  you  ?  I  think  that  if 
I  run  out  to  Chicago  by  the  night  train  I  can  hunt  up  that 
missing  witness  for  you." 

"  That  can  wait, "  said  Mr.  Lindsay.  "The  case  won't 
come  up  for  some  time  yet." 

"Well,  well,  it  is  better  attended  to  at  once,"  repeated 
Guy,  and  Mr.  Lindsay,  comprehending  the  cause  of  his 
restlessness,  made  no  further  objection. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

A   STORY   FROM   THE   PAST 

KATE  WILLOUGHBY  sat  alone   in   her   room.     She 
had  done  nothing  since  her  father  went  out  in  such 
stormy  wrath  that   morning  but  to  wander  disconsolately 
•  from  room  to  room,  unable  to  settle  to  anything,  afraid  to 
go  out    lest  she  should   meet  curious  friends,  longing  for 
some  one  to  whom  she  could  pour  out  all  her  disappoint- 
ment and  misery,  but   so  impatient  at  Mrs.    Hughes'    at- 
tempts  at   consolation   that   the   poor  old  lady  had  been 
driven  to  keep  out  of  her  way. 

At  noon  the  postman  brought  a  letter  from  Mark.  It 
was  very  hastily  written,  and  the  writer  showed  no  apprecia- 
tion of  his  sister's  feeling  concerning  the  step  he  had 
taken.  He  assured  her  that  she  and  Juliet  would  get  on 
together  famously  when  they  really  knew  each  other,  and 
then  he  begged  her  to  try  to  "rub  the  old  gentleman  the 
right  way,  and  get  him  into  a  good  temper,"  as  he  was 
very  anxious  to  bring  Juliet  back  to  Harriton  and  set 
straight  any  talk  that  might  have  arisen  from  the  sudden 
and  singular  manner  in  which  the  marriage  had  taken 
place.  Kate  had  thrown  the  letter  down  and  was  sitting  too 
absorbed  in  her  own  angry  and  painful  reflections  to  notice 
faint  sounds,  when  the  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Davenant 
appeared. 

"Did  I  startle  you?"  asked  that  lady  in  her  gentle 
tones.  "  Excuse  me,  dear  ;  Mrs.  Hughes  told  me  to  come 
to  your  room,  and  I  have  a  question  to  ask. ' ' 

271 


2/2  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

Kate  rose  with  a  swift  blush  at  her  own  lack  of  cordial- 
ity. 

' '  Come  in.  I  think  that  you  are  almost  the  only  person 
that  I  should  feel  willing  to  see, ' '  she  said  wearily  ;  ' '  un- 
less, perhaps,  it  might  be  Bertha  Winstead." 

"That  is  the  very  young  lady  whom  I  have  been  to  look 
for,  and  I  could  not  find  her,"  replied  Mrs.  Davenant 
brightly.  "I  can't  think  where  she  has  vanished  to  so 
suddenly.  She  did  not  come  to  give  Myrtle  her  lesson  this 
morning,  and  she  was  not  at  her  boarding  place,  for  I  have 
just  driven  there  to  inquire.  I  thought  that  I  might  find 
her  here." 

"No,  I  have  not  seen  her,"  said  Kate,  rousing  herself 
with  an  effort  to  take  an  interest  in  what  Mrs.  Davenant 
was  saying. 

"Or,  perhaps,  she  has  gone  out  to  her  home,"  said  Mrs. 
Davenant.  ' '  But  as  you  know  the  Winsteads  pretty  well, 
it  may  be  that  you  can  tell  me  what  I  want  to  know." 

"No,  I  do  not  think  that  she  has  gone  home,"  said 
Kate,  recalling  vividly  the  conversation  that  they  had  had 
together  when  the  music  ales  were  first  planned,  and  Bertha' s 
words  about  her  mother's  visitors.  She  was  therefore  a 
little  surprised  when  Mrs.  Davenant  inquired  : 

"Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  Mrs.  Winstead' s  vis- 
itors ?  I  mean  the  missionary  and  his  wife  who  are  staying 
there  ? ' ' 

"No;  I  have  not  met  them,"  said  Kate  indifferently. 
"From  what  Bertha  said  about  them  I  imagine  they  are 
rather  vulgar  Westerners. ' ' 

' '  Indeed  ! ' '  said  Mrs.  Davenant,  with  an  odd  expression 
in  her  beautiful  eyes,  which  Kate  was  too  much  absorbed 
in  her  own  troubles  to  catch.  ' '  I  fancy  that  the  gentleman 
did  a  great  service  to  Mortimer  Winstead,  for  my  husband, 


A    STORY    FROM    THE    PAST  2/3 

who  had  taken  a  dislike  to  the  young  man,  came  home  to- 
day quite  changed  in  his  opinion  and  very  much  interested 
in  him,  all  from  something  that  this  Mr.  Brant  had  told 
him.  That  is  the  name,  I  believe  ? ' '  she  added  question- 
ing^- 

"Yes,  that  is  what  Bertha  called  them,  and  I  suppose 
from  what  she  said  that  they  are  good  and  worthy  people," 
said  Kate.  "Indeed,  if  they  were  not  that,  Mrs.  Winstead 
would  never,  I  feel  sure,  have  invited  them  to  her  house. 
But  they  must  be  quite  common  and  illiterate.  In  fact," 
she  burst  out  bitterly,  "Bertha  and  I  were  sympathizing, 
for  I  was  telling  her  how  utterly  antipathetic  the  Erskines 
were  to  me,  and  she  spoke  of  these  people  and  her  aver- 
sion to  meeting  them." 

For  one  moment  Mrs.  Davenant's  eyes  danced  with  a 
look  that  seemed  to  be  almost  irrepressible  glee  ;  then  a 
slight  mist  came  into  them,  and  she  answered  gravely  : 

"  My  dear,  let  a  woman  who  has  seen  something  of  the 
troubles  that  may  be  caused  by  thoughtless  words,  give  you 
a  word  of  advice.  I  know  that  you  are  feeling  very  badly, 
for  I  have  heard  from  my  husband  of  your  father's  vexa- 
tion with  your  brother  ;  but  that  will  all  pass  over — and  in 
truth  the  people  are  of  more  importance  in  a  marriage 
than  the  way  in  which  it  is  arranged.  I  know  that  all  the 
talk  that  this  hasty  step  causes  must  be  dreadfully  annoy- 
ing to  you  ;  but  the  girl  herself  is  a  kind  and  warm-hearted 
creature,  as  far  as  I  have  heard  ;  and  if  you  take  care  to 
say  nothing  that  will  rankle  and  bring  about  estrangement 
you  can  do  a  great  deal  to  make  her  what  you  would  like 
her  to  be." 

Kate  was  beginning  a  hasty  reply  when  there  was  a  tap 
at  the  door,  .and  a  servant  announced  that  Miss  Clive  was 
in  the  drawing  room. 

S 


274  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"Perhaps  she  has  come  to  tell  you  something  about  her 
niece,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Davenant  eagerly. 

Kate  hesitated  a  moment,  for  she  was  unwilling  to  have 
their  conversation  interrupted,  and  she  was  not  in  the  mood 
to  see  any  one  ;  but  her  friend  was  so  evidently  in  earnest 
in  her  desire  to  learn  where  Bertha  was  to  be  found,  that 
she  suggested  as  pleasantly  as  she  could  that  they  should 
both  go  down  to  see  Miss  Clive, 

Miss  Clive,  instead  of  coming  to  bring  any  news  of  Ber- 
tha, had  come  to  ask  news,  and  she  was  evidently  disap- 
pointed and  disturbed  when  Kate  assured  her  that  she  had 
not  seen  Bertha  at  all  that  day.  But  she  strove  to  conceal 
her  anxiety,  and  rose,  saying  with  an  attempt  at  playfulness : 

"You  know  she  is  an  old  maid's  bairn  now,  and  I  am 
very  fussy  about  her  if  she  happens  to  be  out  longer  than  I 
expected. ' ' 

The  impulsive  Kate  felt  all  her  sympathies  aroused  for 
this  gentle,  elderly  lady  and  she  answered  warmly  : 

' '  I  shall  give  Bertha  a  scolding  for  ever  letting  you  be- 
come anxious  about  her.  Sit  quietly  with  us  a  little  while 
and  I  will  give  you  a  cup  of  tea.  I  should  not  be  at  all 
surprised  if  Bertha  came  in  for  her  share,  as  she  often  stops 
to  see  me  when  she  is  on  her  way  home  in  the  evening,  and 
to-day  she  very  likely  knows  that  I  have  had  unpleasant 
news  and  will  have  a  word  of  sympathy  for  me. ' '  Kate' s 
kindly  speech  ended  with  a  bitter  ring,  for  she  was  too 
thoroughly  disturbed  to  conceal  her  feelings  long,  and  could 
not  forget  her  own  grievance  in  her  thought  for  others. 

Mrs.  Davenant' s  eyes  followed  her  with  a  compassionate, 
and  at  the  same  time  a  sorrowful  glance,  as  she  crossed  the 
long  room  to  ring  the  bell  and  order  tea.  Miss  Clive,  who 
had  just  heard  from  Mortimer  of  Mark's  marriage  and  Mr. 
Willoughby's  anger,  was  at  no  loss  to  interpret  the  mean- 


A    STORY    FROM    THE    PAST  275 

ing  of  all  this  and  longed  to  speak  a  word  of  sympathy  to 
the  girl  ;  but  she  knew  her  too  slightly  to  venture  on  it  if 
Mrs.  Davenant  had  not  leaned  over  and  whispered  : 

"  Help  me  to  persuade  her  to  put  aside  all  bitterness  and 
think  only  of  her  brother's  welfare." 

The  hurried  whisper  changed  Miss  Clive's  intention. 
She  had  not  meant  to  stay,  but  now  she  saw  that  she  might 
do  some  good,  and  she  knew  that  she  could  not  hunt 
farther  for  Bertha  before  nightfall,  as  she  had  already  in- 
quired at  the  only  other  places  where  the  girl  was  likely  to 
have  stopped. 

"Perhaps  the  Lord  has  work  for  me  to  do  right  here," 
she  thought,  and  she  quietly  loosened  her  wrap  and  had  a 
kindly  word  ready  for  Kate  as  she  returned  to  them.  Kate 
made  an  evident  effort  to  keep  up  a  conversation  on  ordi- 
nary topics  ;  but  she  was  constantly  losing  the  thread  and 
betraying  that  she  paid  no  attention  when  her  companions 
spoke  together  and  left  her  free  to  fall  back  upon  her  own 
thoughts.  At  last  some  mention  of  an  approaching  mar- 
riage called  forth  a  bitter  reply  from  her,  and  Mrs.  Dave- 
nant said  : 

"  Miss  Clive  is  too  good  a  friend  of  mine  for  me  to  stand 
on  ceremony  with  her,  and  I  want  you  to  let  me  ask  her  for 
her  opinion  of  the  situation  in  which  you  find  yourself, 
Kate." 

Kate  flushed  and  looked  irresolute.  Then  she  asked 
quickly,  "  Have  you  a  brother,  Miss  Clive  ?" 

"No,  my  dear,"  replied  Miss  Clive,  with  a  sad  little 
shake  of  her  head.  "But  I  was  willful  and  headstrong." 

"I  don't  think  that  you  can  understand  what  it  is  to 
have  one' s  only  brother  mar  all  his  prospects  in  life  by  a 
sudden  foolish  act,"  said  Kate  hoarsely. 

Mrs.  Davenant  had  turned  to  a  table  near  and  was  gather- 


2/6  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

ing  up  her  gloves  and  card-case  and  handkerchief.  Miss 
Clive  leaned  forward  and  laid  her  hand  on  Kate's,  only 
saying  with  the  most  winning  kindness  : 

"Tell  me,  dear;  I  wish  I  did  know  how  to  help  you." 

"Oh,  it  is  impossible!"  exclaimed  Kate.  "When  a 
young  man  marries  in  haste,  captivated  by  a  mere  pretty 
face,  it  is  a  blunder  that  can' t  be  mended. ' ' 

' '  Do  you  mean  that  your  brother  does  not  really  care  for 
the  girl  whom  he  has  married  ?"  asked  Miss  Clive,  shocked 
and  startled  as  her  old  fears  concerning  the  young  man' s 
feeling  toward  Bertha  crowded  back  to  her  mind. 

"  How  can  he  ?"  exclaimed  Kate  impatiently.  "  She  is 
beneath  him  in  every  way,  except  perhaps  that  she  will 
have  plenty  of  money." 

' '  But  if  she  loves  him  she  will  try  hard  to  fit  herself  for 
her  position  as  his  wife,"  said  Miss  Clive.  "  And  think 
how  you  could  help  her  if  you  receive  her  kindly." 

"That  is  just  what  Mrs.  Davenant  was  saying  at  the 
time  you  came  in, ' '  said  Kate  turning  to  her  friend. 

' '  And  I  say  the  same  thing  still, ' '  replied  Mrs.  Davenant 
lightly,  as  she  finished  buttoning  her  glove.  "I  have 
heard  of  Juliet  Erskine,  and  I  feel  sure  that  she  is  the  kind 
of  girl  who  will  improve. ' ' 

"You  did  not  spend  some  weeks  in  the  same  hotel  with 
her,  as  I  did  at  Sea  Beach  last  summer,"  replied  Kate 
moodily. 

' '  No,  but  I  have  seen  giddy  young  girls  in  that  way  at  a 
summer  hotel,  where  idleness,  thoughtlessness,  and  foolish 
companionship,  have  led  them  into  doing  and  saying  things 
that  impressed  me  very  unfavorably,  and  I  have  afterward 
found  that  the  same  girls  under  better  circumstances  showed 
themselves  to  be  really  fine  women." 

' '  Juliet  is  nothing  but  a  flirt.     She  cannot  really  care  for 


A   STORY    FROM    THE    PAST  2/7 

Mark.  Just  let  me  tell  you  this  incident  that  was  told  to 
me  last  summer, ' '  said  Kate  resentfully. 

"Stop  a  moment,  dear;  do  not  tell  it  until  I  tell  you 
what  happened  to  me  once, ' '  interposed  the  gentle  tones  of 
Miss  Clive. 

Kate  paused  in  surprise,  and  Mrs.  Davenant,  who  knew 
that  Miss  Clive  would  gain  Kate's  attention  better  if  she 
did  not  take  part  in  the  conversation,  turned  away  to  a  mir- 
ror and  began  to  arrange  her  veil.  Miss  Clive  hesitated, 
and  a  soft  flush  stole  over  her  thin  cheeks,  but  she  had 
begun  and  she  went  bravely  on. 

"It  is  a  story  that  always  gives  me  a  painful  feeling  of 
remorse,  although  it  happened  many  years  ago,"  she  said. 
' '  But  I  will  tell  it  to  you  and  let  you  draw  your  own  con- 
clusion. I  was  a  young  girl  and  I  was  visiting  friends  at  a 
college  town  where  I  met  several  of  the  students.  One  of 
these  young  men  was  particularly  bright  and  intelligent  in 
his  studies,  though  he  was  very  quiet  and  paid  no  attention 
to  the  parties  and  amusements  that  the  gayer  spirits  planned. 
He  was  so  quiet  and  said  so  little  about  himself,  that  out 
of  sheer  mischief  we  used  to  conjecture  all  sorts  of  stories 
about  him.  One  day,  however,  I  met  a  girl  who  told  me 
that  she  knew  his  family  and  that  he  had  a  Veal  history  that 
was  rather  romantic.  She  told  me  that  his  father  was  dead 
and  his  mother  had  married  again.  We  knew  that  much 
already  from  himself.  But  she  added  the  information  that 
his  stepfather  was  'very  grasping  and  unkind,  that  he  did 
not  like  his  stepson,  and  was  very  much  annoyed  by  the 
thought  that  this  young  man  would  one  day  inherit  the 
property  of  his  mother.  I  believe  that  there  was  another 
child  and  he  wanted  it  for  his  child.  My  informant  told 
me  that  this  lad  was  brought  up  most  rigidly  and  was  kept 
in  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  he  had  any  inheritance;  only 


2/8  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

what  would  take  him  through  college  was  allowed  him,  and 
that  was  so  scanty  an  allowance  that  he  could  not  afford  to 
spend  a  cent  beyond  what  was  necessary. 

"I  was  very  indignant  and  I  accepted  the  tale  without 
any  attempt  to  discover  whether  it  was  true,  and — here 
comes  the  worst  part  of  it — I  repeated  it.  It  was  at  the 
commencement  exercises  and  I  had  been  introduced  to  an 
old  gentleman  who  had  come  on  to  attend  commencement 
He  was  talking  about  the  different  students,  asking  their 
names  and  their  standing.  He  did  not  ask  about  this  one, 
but  I  volunteered  information,  and  as  the  old  gentleman 
seemed  interested  in  hearing  me  praise  his  attainments,  I 
next  launched  into  this  precious  bit  of  family  history,  pos- 
sibly coloring  it  a  little  more  highly.  At  any  rate  I  added 
my  own  comments  on  the  stingy  stepfather.  The  old 
gentleman  made  no  remark  until  I  had  finished.  Then  he 
said  very  coldly  :  '  It  is  a  pity  that  the  young  man' s  mother 
should  be  in  the  power  of  such  a  dishonest  man  ;  but  I 
question  his  taste  in  allowing  these  details  to  be  public 
talk.'  Then  he  moved  away  and  I  never  again  had  an 
opportunity  to  speak  to  him." 

"Well,"  said  Kate,  "what  harm  did  that  do,  Miss 
Clive,  that  it  should  worry  you  so  long  afterward  ? ' ' 

"  My  dear,  I  learned  afterward  that  I  had  been  talking 
to  the  young  man's  stepfather  and  that  my  thoughtless 
words  had  made  a  complete  estrangement.  The  young 
man  and  his  mother  were  left  extremely  poor  when  his  own 
father  died  and  the  stepfather  had  furnished  all  that  was 
needed  for  the  young  man's  education  in  a  very  liberal 
style.  I  was  told  that  the  young  man  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  take  more  than  was  absolutely  necessary,  for  in  fact 
there  was  no  real  sympathy  between  the  stepfather  and  son  ; 
but  that  only  made  matters  worse,  because  there  was  no 


A    STORY    FROM    THE    PAST  2/9 

opportunity  for  an  explanation  as  there  might  have  been  if 
they  had  been  really  very  friendly. ' ' 

"What  became  of  them  ? ' '  asked  Kate  deeply  interested. 

"  I  do  not  know  anything  about  the  rest  of  the  family," 
replied  Miss  Clive  ;  "  but  I  know  that  the  young  man  went 
away  to  a  most  uncongenial  region  to  make  his  own  living 
as  best  he  could,  and  although  his  work  has  been  a  noble 
one,  he  has  always  been  very  poor  and  at  last  his  health 
broke  down." 

"Do  you  mean  that  he  died?"  asked  Kate  in  pitying 
tones,  roused  from  her  own  troubles  by  the  sight  of  Miss 
Clive' s  quivering  lips.  She  had  hardly  uttered  the  words 
when  a  low  but  quickly  smothered  exclamation  from  Mrs. 
Davenant  caused  her  to  look  up  at  her  friend.  Although 
Mrs.  Davenant' s  back  was  turned  to  them,  Kate  caught  a 
glimpse  of  her  face  in  the  mirror  and  was  startled  to  see  its 
expression  of  painful  interest  Miss  Clive  however  saw 
nothing  and  was  replying  earnestly : 

"Oh,  no  !  I  trust  and  believe  that  he  has  yet  many 
years  of  useful  and  happy  life  before  him  ;  but  that  cannot 
atone  for  the  harm  that  I  wrought  by  my  thoughtless  words. 
You  may  well  imagine,  dear  child,  that  I  did  not  speak  of 
this  with  any  other  object  than  to  give  you  a  warning.  Oh, 
I  wish  that  I  could  urge  upon  every  young  girl  to  be  careful 
never  to  repeat  the  evil  that  she  may  hear  of  people  unless 
it  is  absolutely  necessary.  Tell  what  is  good  and  kind,  and 
if  there  is  nothing  of  that  sort  to  say,  then  say  nothing." 

Kate  was  too  much  touched  and  abashed  by  the  fervor  of 
Miss  Clive' s  words  to  reply.  Her  conscience  reminded  her 
of  several  instances  of  Juliet  Erskine's  kind-heartedness, 
and  she  knew  that  the  girl  was  a  devoted  daughter  and  was 
apt  to  espouse  most  warmly  the  cause  of  any  one  whom  she 
considered  unjustly  treated  ;  but  she  could  not  yet  bring 


28O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

herself  to  look  at  this  side  of  the  character  of  her  obnoxious 
sister-in-law.  Miss  Clive  seemed  to  understand  her,  for 
she  did  not  show  any  surprise  or  disappointment  at  her 
silence,  but  leaning  over  kissed  her  and  whispered  : 

"  May  the  dear  Lord  show  how  you  ought  to  act  and  give 
you  the  strength  and  the  meekness  to  follow  his  will  in  this 
matter. ' ' 

Mrs.  Davenant  had  now  turned  and  she  saw  that  Miss 
Clive  was  very  pale  and  evidently  shaken  by  the  memories 
that  her  own  words  had  stirred.  She  also  knew  that  Kate 
would  better  be  alone  to  think  over  what  had  been  said. 

"It  is  late,"  she  said  cheerily  to  Miss  Clive,  "and  you 
must  let  me  take  you  home.  My  carriage  is  waiting  and  I 
shall  be  glad  of  company. ' ' 

Miss  Clive  thankfully  accepted  this  offer,  for  she  felt  weak 
and  tired  after  her  unusual  exertions  of  the  afternoon.  They 
said  good-bye  to  Kate,  who  had  lost  so  much  of  her  defiant 
self-absorption  that  she  felt  really  sorry  to  see  Miss  Clive 
go,  and  they  were  whirled  quickly  through  the  dusky  streets 
to  Miss  Halsey's  door. 

Whatever  passed  between  them  during  that  drive  certainly 
did  Miss  Clive  good,  for  when  she  alighted  at  her  door  her 
eyes  were  shining  with  happy  tears  and  her  face  was  bright 
and  thankful.  Mrs.  Davenant  leaned  forward  with  a  bright 
smile  to  press  her  hand  again  as  Miss  Clive  turned  at  the 
carriage  door  to  thank  her. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  ;  "it  is  I  who  cannot  sufficiently 
thank  you.  But  we  are  now  close  friends  between  whom 
words  are  not  needed." 

It  was  well  for  Miss  Clive  that  she  had  something  to 
cheer  her,  for  no  sooner  had  she  entered  the  house  than 
all  her  anxieties  returned  on  hearing  that  Bertha  had  not 
yet  been  seen. 


A   STORY    FROM    THE    PAST  28 1 

"Mortimer  has  gone  out  to  Briarley,"  said  Miss  Rebecca 
tearfully  ;  "but  I  can't  think  why  the  dear  child  should 
have  gone  there  without  a  word  to  us." 

"Nonsense,  sister,"  said  Miss  Ann.  "Surely  it  is  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  she  should  go  to  see 
her  mother." 

' '  Oh,  she  ought  not  to  have  done  that ! ' '  exclaimed  Miss 
Clive  in  alarm.  "  Think  of  the  danger.  She  could  not  be 
so  headstrong  and  willful  ;  I  warned  her  most  urgently. ' ' 

"Where  else  can  she  be?"  sighed  Miss  Rebecca  ;  and 
truly  it  was  but  a  choice  of  anxieties. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'  clock  before  the  sound  of  Mortimer' s 
foot  on  the  steps  brought  relief  to  the  watchers.  His  face 
looked  clouded,  but  he  answered  to  their  eager  questions  : 

"Yes;  she  is  at  Merrivale.  She  went  out  there  this 
morning  and  went  straight  upstairs  to  Helen's  room. 
Mother  was  taking  a  nap  while  Helen  dozed  and  she 
waked  to  see  Bertha  sitting  beside  the  bed.  Bertha  says 
she  means  to  stay  and  help  mother  with  the  nursing.  It 
can' t  be  helped  now.  Helen  was  pleased  to  see  her,  and 
you  know  when  Bertha  makes  up  her  mind  to  do  anything 
she  is  not  easily  moved.  So  mother  had  to  give  in,  but  I 
am  afraid  it  is  going  to  be  a  bad  business.  Poor  mother 
had  her  hands  full  with  one  patient  and  she  can  hardly 
manage  if  she  is  to  have  another  under  her  care." 

"Poor,  foolish  child,"  sighed  Miss  Clive.  "But  there, 
we  must  just  hope  for  the  best" 

A  little  while  before,  Mortimer  would  have  had  some 
sharp  words  of  comment  upon  Bertha's  obstinacy,  but  his 
own  troubles  had  shown  him  how  easy  it  is  to  let  go  the 
hand  of  the  only  Helper  and  to  try  to  guide  one's  self  by 
the  light  of  one' s  own  will  till  a  severe  fall  comes  as  conse- 
quence of  the  mistake,  and  now  he  held  his  peace. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   MISSED    TRAIN 

ON  that  eventful  Monday  evening  when  Bertha  was 
waiting,  at  first  with  eager,  joyful  hope  and  then 
with  growing  and  bitter  disappointment,  for  the  coming  of 
Mark  Willoughby,  that  young  man  was  standing  at  the 
station  at  Harleytown  watching  keenly  each  passenger  who 
came  in  out  of  the  rainy  streets  and  passed  through  to  the 
train  for  Harriton.  At  last  the  clock  pointed  to  half-past 
seven.  The  puff,  puff  of  the  engine,  and  then  the  heavy 
rumble  of  wheels  announced  the  departure  of  the  train.  It 
was  the  last  one  that  would  leave  for  Harriton  until  the 
eleven  o'  clock  express,  but  Mark  made  no  effort  to  board  it. 
He  looked  worried  and  undecided,  but  his  attention  was 
turned  to  the  dingy  street  of  the  little  town,  down  which  a 
few  dripping  umbrellas  came  bobbing  and  gleaming  under 
the  scanty  rays  of  the  street  lamp  in  front  of  the  station. 

The  umbrellas  concealed  the  features,  but  left  revealed 
the  overcoats  and  trousers  of  their  masculine  owners,  and 
Mark  hardly  gave  them  a  second  glance.  The  only  petti- 
coat in  sight  on  the  sloppy  pavement  appeared  beneath  a 
particularly  dingy  and  battered  umbrella,  but  something  in 
the  way  that  the  skirt  was  held  out  of  the  mud  caused 
Mark  to  rivet  a  piercing  gaze  on  the  unconscious  owner 
even  before  she  had  come  near  enough  for  him  to  note  that 
the  daintily  gloved  hand  grasping  the  skirt  and  the  neatly 
shod  little  feet  that  tripped  deftly  around  the  puddles,  were 
strangely  out  of  keeping  with  the  old  umbrella, 
282 


THE    MISSED    TRAIN  283 

He  drew  back  into  the  shadow  as  this  rather  incongruous 
figure  stopped  before  the  station  and  ran  lightly  up  the  steps. 
As  the  shabby  umbrella  was  lowered,  a  very  pretty  girlish 
face  was  disclosed,  with  rosy  cheeks  and  lips  glowing  from 
the  hurried  walk  through  wind  and  rain,  and  dark  eyes 
shining  as  though  some  joyful  secret  lurked  beneath  the 
long  lashes.  But  the  sight  of  the  empty  track  brought  a 
startled  expression  into  the  eyes,  and  a  hasty  glance  at  the 
clock  completed  the  dismay  of  the  dainty  little  lady. 

She  stood  a  moment  irresolute,  then  she  turned  back  to 
the  door  and  glanced  across  the  street  at  a  small  hotel. 
While  she  stood  apparently  debating  what  she  should  do 
next,  Mark  advanced  out  of  the  shadow  to  her  side,  and  in 
a  low  voice  that  shook  a  little  with  feeling,  he  said  : 

"Juliet,  are  you  here  alone?" 

"Mark  !"  she  exclaimed  with  a  start  and  a  glance  of 
unfeigned  relief  and  pleasure.  "Where  did  you  drop 
from  so  opportunely  ?  Yes,  I  am  alone,  and  I  have  missed 
the  train  to  Harriton  and  shall  have  to  stay  here  till  some 
awful  hour  of  the  night  before  the  next  train  comes  along. 
Do  you  know  whether  that  is  a  respectable  place  over 
there?  I  am  hungry  and  rather  wet  too." 

"Why  not  go  back  to  your  friends  ?"  asked  Mark. 
"You  can't  go  to  Harriton  at  midnight" 

"I  have  no  friends  here,"  replied  the  girl,  "and  I  don't 
know  any  one  who  could  take  me  in  for  the  night" 

"Then  what  on  earth  has  brought  you  here?"  asked 
Mark  almost  fiercely  as  he  glanced  at  her  satchel. 

She  laughed  merrily  and  raised  her  eyes  with  a  saucy 
gleam  of  mischief  in  them  to  his  gloomy  face. 

"Come  into  the  waiting  room,"  she  said.  "I  have 
something  here  that  I  think  you  will  be  glad  to  see. ' ' 

Mark  followed  her  silently,    and  as  she  sat  down  and 


284  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

opened  her  bag,  stood  watching  her  with  an  expression 
that  would  have  been  quite  new  to  most  of  his  friends  who 
knew  him  as  gay  and  careless  to  a  fault. 

"There,"  she  said,  as  she  drew  out  a  thick  brown-paper 
parcel.  "Sit  down  and  I  will  let  you  have  one  peep." 

She  raised  a  fold  of  the  cover  as  she  spoke,  and  Mark 
bent  his  head  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  letters  and  other 
papers.  A  sudden  look  of  eager  relief  flashed  over  his 
gloomy  face  as  he  exclaimed  : 

' '  Where  did  you  get  those  ?  Tell  me,  Juliet.  Don' t 
tease  me  now,  dear,  I  can' t  bear  it. ' ' 

His  voice  was  so  pleading  and  his  hand  closed  over  hers 
with  such  a  loving  pressure,  that  all  the  mischief  died  out 
of  her  face  and  a  mist  gathered  over  the  bright  eyes  as  they 
glanced  up  at  him  with  a  shy  expression  of  wistful  affection 
that  Kate  Willoughby  would  have  said  was  utterly  foreign 
to  the  nature  of  Juliet  Erskine. 

'  •  Did  you  ever  hear  of  Betsy  Graves  ? ' '   she  asked. 

He  shook  his  head  silently. 

"Well,  I  knew  her,  and  I  helped  her  by  sending  her 
some  clothes  for  her  baby  when  she  was  left  all  alone  and 
in  great  straits  to  keep  herself  and  the  child.  Her  husband 
was  a  scamp,  and  he  got  in  some  trouble  and  went  off  and 
left  her.  That  was  a  few  years  ago.  The  poor  baby  died, 
as  all  her  other  children  had  died,  and,  poor  soul,  she  was 
quite  broken  down.  I  don' t  think  that  she  has  ever  been 
the  same  since  ;  but  she  was  very  faithful  to  me.  I  sent 
her  flowers  for  the  child's  coffin,  and  she  spoke  of  that 
when  I  saw  her  to-day,  and  she  got  me  these  papers  at 
once  when  I  told  her  that  I  wanted  them  very  badly  for  a 
friend  of  mine." 

' '  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  know  that  man' s  wife, 
and  have  come  all  the  way  out  here  to  go  to  his  house  and 


THE    MISSED    TRAIN  285 

get  these  papers  and  so  save  me  from  disgrace  ?"  exclaimed 
Mark  in  a  low,  hoarse  voice. 

"Oh,  I  managed  that  very  easily,"  replied  the  girl 
lightly.  "I  told  mother  that  I  was  going  to  Morfield  to 
see  an  old  school  friend,  Myra  Clapp.  Father  had  gone 
out  and  mother  had  a  sick-headache,  so  they  could  not 
come  to  the  station  with  me." 

"They  must  be  frantic  about  you,"   said  Mark. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  replied  ;  "I  was  to  stay  over  night 
Mother  told  me  to  stay,  and  I  brought  the  satchel  to  please 
her  ;  for  of  course  it  is  lonely  and  dull  for  me  at  the  hotel 
when  she  is  laid  up,  and  she  said  that  I  could  do  her  no 
good.  She  only  wants  to  be  let  alone  when  she  gets  these 
headaches." 

While  the  girl  was  chattering  on,  Mark  was  thinking 
deeply.  He  now  interrupted  her  again,  laying  his  hand  on 
hers  and  speaking  very  low  and  earnestly. 

"Juliet,"  he  said,  "you  have  done  a  great  thing  for  me 
to-day,  and  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  do  one  thing  more." 

The  girl  looked  up  eagerly,  though  her  face  paled  a  little 
at  the  earnestness  of  his  tone. 

' '  I  cannot  leave  you  here  all  alone  in  a  town  where 
you  know  no  one  ;  and,  Juliet,  I  must  have  the  right  to 
protect  and  care  for  you. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  might  get  Betsy  to  take  care  of  me  for  to-night," 
hastily  said  the  girl,  shrinking  back  a  little  as  she  caught 
his  meaning. 

"No,  no,  that  is  impossible.  The  secret  service  men 
are  on  the  track,  and  I  thought  that  a  man  who  came  in 
the  last  train  while  I  was  watching  here  for  you,  looked  like 
one  of  those  detectives.  You  see  that  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble for  you  to  go  there  when  the  house  may  be  searched  by 
detectives  at  any  time.  It  is  horrible  to  think  how  near 


286  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

you  may  have  been  to  getting  mixed  up  in  such  an  affair," 
and  Mark  shuddered  a  little  as  he  spoke.  Then  he 
quickly  resumed  his  pleading,  and  Juliet  soon  felt  the  force 
of  his  argument. 

' '  I  wanted  to  have  such  a  nice  wedding,  and  I  did  want 
to  have  your  father  and  sister  present,"  she  said  with  a 
tearful  pout. 

"  Fine  weddings  are  so  commonplace,"  urged  Mark,  be- 
ginning to  feel  that  he  had  carried  his  point.  « '  And  you 
shall  have  the  nicest  parties  afterward  a  bride  can  want ' ' 

"Bride!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "In  this  shabby  old 
gown!"  and  she  laughed  a  little  nervously  ;  but  Mark  knew 
that  he  had  won  his  suit  and  after  a  few  more  words  of 
encouragement  he  went  to  find  out  the  address  of  a  minister 
whom  he  knew  to  be  a  friend  of  Mr.  Marshall  of  Briarley. 

The  kindly  minister  and  his  wife  were  interested  in  the 
young  couple.  Mark  explained  just  enough  of  the  unto- 
ward circumstances  of  the  young  lady  having  missed  her 
train,  to  show  the  worthy  couple  the  cause  of  his  desire  for 
this  speedy  marriage. 

When  thus  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  Juliet  found  her- 
self a  married  woman,  her  first  thought  was  to  write  to  her 
mother.  Mark  had  dispatched  the  hasty  telegram  to  his 
sister.  To  him  it  was  a  relief  to  feel  that  the  matter  was 
now  settled  beyond  any  chance  of  discussion  ;  for  he  had 
known,  ever  since  his  engagement  to  Juliet,  that  it  would 
be  very  distasteful  to  his  father  and  sister.  With  his  usual 
facility  for  putting  off  what  was  likely  to  prove  unpleasant, 
he  had  delayed  informing  them  of  his  engagement  In- 
deed, it  was  only  just  before  his  departure  from  Harriton  on 
this  recent  trip  that  he  had  in  due  form  '  •  spoken ' '  to 
Juliet' s  parents,  although  from  his  frequent  visits  they  had 
suspected  what  was  coming. 


THE    MISSED    TRAIN  287 

The  fact  that  his  family  had  taken  no  notice  of  the 
arrival  of  the  Erskines  in  Harriton  had  nettled  old  Mr. 
Erskine  ;  but  Juliet  had  skillfully  used  part  of  the  informa- 
tion that  she  had  gained  from  Mark  to  explain  it.  She  had 
told  her  parents  that  Mark' s  father  was  quick-tempered  and 
apt  to  find  fault  with  his  son,  and  just  at  this  time  he  was 
down  upon  poor  Mark  because  some  business  affairs  had  not 
gone  to  please  him.  At  this,  kind-hearted  Mrs.  Erskine' s 
interest  was  excited,  and  she  remarked  : 

' '  I  hope,  Juliet,  that  the  young  man  don' t  take  after  his 
father  in  that  I  will  say  this,  whatever  faults  your  father 
may  have  had — and  there' s  no  man  who  hasn'  t  got  his  own 
share — he  never,  since  the  old  days  when  he  first  came  a 
courtin"  me,  got  cross  in  his  home  because  he  didn'  t  get  all 
the  money  he  wanted  out  of  his  business.  And  I  can  just 
tell  you  and  any  other  girl,  that's  the  sort  of  man  that 
makes  a  husband  who's  goin'  to  wear  well." 

Mr.  Erskine' s  puckered  brow  relaxed  under  the  soothing 
effect  of  these  words.  He  muttered  some  of  the  usual 
strictures  that  men  who  have  no  sons  are  apt  to  have  in 
stock  concerning  men  who  have  sons,  "  Don't  know  how  to 
manage  "em,"  and  such  remarks  ;  and  Juliet,  being  one  of 
those  clever  young  ladies  who  do  know  very  well  how  to 
manage  their  parents,  soon  coaxed  both  him  and  her 
mother  into  a  friendly  mood  toward  Mark. 

Then  she  had  set  her  fertile  brain  to  work  to  plan  how 
she  should  win  over  Mark's  sister,  of  whom  in  her  secret 
heart  she  stood  a  little  in  awe.  She  discovered  that  Kate 
Willoughby  was  particularly  intimate  with  Bertha  Winstead, 
and  immediately  the  idea  struck  her  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  Miss  Winstead  and  through  her  gain  Kate's  favor. 
The  alarming  discovery  of  the  difficulties  into  which  Mark 
had  run  himself  required  her  immediate  attention,  and  be- 


288  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

yond  the  slight  chance  which  her  encounter  with  Bertha  in 
the  church  had  afforded  her,  she  had  had  no  time  as  yet  to 
carry  out  the  plans  for  the  winning  of  Kate's  good-will. 
She  had  however  been  impressed  by  Bertha's  quiet,  re- 
served, ladylike  demeanor,  and  her  thoughts  reverted  to  this 
possible  ally  as  she  finished  her  hastily  written  letter  to  her 
mother  in  the  rather  dingy  room  which  was  the  best  that 
Mark  could  secure  at  the  hotel. 

"  You  will  write  to  your  home,"  she  said  to  Mark,  and 
he  agreed  without  mentioning  to  her  the  telegram  that  he 
had  already  sent  In  truth,  he  hoped  that  the  next  day 
would  bring  him  a  letter  from  Kate  that  would  make  him 
feel  it  possible  to  take  Juliet  to  his  father' s  house  at  once 
and  bluff  off  the  talk  that  the  hasty  marriage  was  sure  to 
cause.  Kate  had  always  been  so  ready  to  manage  disagree- 
able affairs  for  him,  and  to  smooth  out  the  muddles  in 
which  his  carelessness  or  selfishness  involved  him,  that  it 
did  not  occur  to  him  that  she  might  not  be  inclined  to  help 
him  in  this  instance. 

But  the  morning  mail  on  the  following  day  brought  no 
letter  from  Kate,  and  his  hopes  that  he  might  be  able  to 
telegraph  to  Mr.  Erskine  that  he  and  his  bride  would  be  at 
Mr.  Willoughby's  house  in  Harriton  that  afternoon,  slowly 
vanished. 

The  afternoon  however,  brought  Mr.  Erskine  himself  in 
no  very  amiable  mood  ;  but  Juliet  was  equal  to  the  emer- 
gency. She  took  upon  herself  the  whole  task  of  explaining 
her  escapade  and  all  Mark  had  to  do  was  to  explain  that  he 
had  met  her  at  the  station  alone  and  without  friends,  after 
she  had  just  missed  the  last  available  train  by  which  she 
could  return  to  Harriton  that  night. 

Juliet  simply  told  her  father  that  she  had  come  to  Harley- 
town  to  see  a  poor  woman  whom  she  had  befriended  a  few 


THE    MISSED    TRAIN  289 

years  before  and  whom  she  had  learned  was  in  Harleytown 
and  in  poor  circumstances  ;  and  she  had  not  counted  on 
being  delayed  so  long,  but  intended  to  return  in  time  to  go 
out  to  spend  the  night  with  her  friend,  according  to  the 
plan  she  had  mentioned  to  her  mother. 

Mr.  Erskine  went  to  see  the  Rev.  Mr.  Warner  and  as- 
sured himself  that  all  had  been  done  properly,  and  then 
Mark,  in  a  private  conversation  in  which  the  matter  of  set- 
tlements was  broached  by  Mr.  Erskine,  begged  him  to  draw 
up  any  settlements  that  he  deemed  proper  and  promised 
that  they  should  be  signed  and  made  as  secure  as  though 
the  whole  had  been  done  before  their  marriage. 

"Whatever  is  Juliet's  should  be  settled  upon  herself," 
he  said.  Mr.  Erskine' s  brow  cleared  and  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  the  young  man  saying  :  "Come  right  back  with  me 
to  town  and  we  will  have  it  all  attended  to  at  once  ;  and 
Juliet  must  come  to  her  mother,  who  was  not  able  to  be 
out  of  bed,  or  she  would  have  been  here  with  me." 

Thus  it  happened  that  while  Miss  Clive  and  Mrs.  Dave- 
nant  were  talking  with  Kate,  Mark  and  his  bride  had  already 
arrived  at  the  Carl  ton  House. 

"  It  is  too  late  to  attend  to  that  business  this  afternoon," 
said  Mr.  Erskine.  "  We  will  see  about  it  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning." 

Intent  upon  pleasing  their  daughter,  a  dainty  little  dinner 
was  ordered  in  their  apartments,  and  Mrs.  Erskine  insisted 
upon  sitting  at  the  head  of  the  table. 

Setting  aside  a  slight  irritation  that  his  father  and  sister 
should  be  so  slow  in  doing  what  he  considered  the  right 
thing  by  his  bride,  Mark  was  wonderfully  comfortable  that 
evening. 

The  papers  that  might  have  caused  most  unpleasant 
scandal,  had  they  fallen  into  other  hands,  lay  securely  in  his 
I 


2QO  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

wife's  satchel  ;  his  place  was  undoubtedly  assured  in  his 
uncle' s  office  ;  beside  him  at  the  well-appointed  dinner  table 
sat  Juliet  charmingly  attired  and  radiant  with  happiness,  as 
beautiful  and  devoted  a  young  wife  as  any  man  could  desire  ; 
while  her  parents  were  receiving  him  in  kindly,  hearty 
fashion  that  caused  any  blunders  in  grammar  or  dropped 
letters  to  sink  into  absolute  insignificance  in  Mark' s  mind. 
A  genial  glow  warmed  his  heart,  and  as  he  gave  himself  up 
to  the  enjoyment  of  feeling  that  all  his  troubles  were  being 
smoothed  away,  the  thought  of  Mortimer  and  of  Bertha's 
words  recurred  to  him. 

' '  Poor  fellow !  I  must  hunt  him  up  the  first  spare 
moment  I  get,"  he  thought.  "I'll  pay  him  that  money, 
and  it  will  go  hard  if  I  can' t  get  him  a  good  position  too, 
probably  a  good  deal  better  than  the  one  that  he  has  lost, 
for  I  don' t  think  he  was  exactly  the  kind  to  get  on  well  with 
Uncle  Palmer.  He  needs  somebody  with  more  'go.'  But 
old  Mort's  religion  and  his  steady  ways  would  just  suit  Mr. 
Harvey.  Maybe  after  things  blow  over  a  bit,  I  could  get 
him  in  there." 

Mark  was  convinced  that  his  luck  was  again  in  the  as- 
cendant, and  the  day  closed  with  contentment  and  good 
cheer. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

MARK    DEFENDS    MORTIMER 

WHILE  Mark  was  congratulating  himself  that  all  his 
troubles  were  safely  over,  Mortimer  was  in  a  very 
despondent  mood.  It  was  a  very  severe  blow  to  him  when 
he  received  definite  dismissal  from  his  position  with  Palmer 
&  Davenant. 

"  I  suppose  that  my  mother  would  say  that  my  faith  was 
not  worth  much  if  it  grew  weak  under  these  tests,"  he  said 
rather  bitterly  to  his  aunt ;  "but  the  truth  is  that  I  don't 
think  I  deserve  anything  better.  I  was  getting  careless, 
and  I  suppose  that  I  must  suffer  for  it" 

"If  we  got  only  what  we  deserve,  which  of  us  could 
claim  any  good?"  replied  his  aunt.  "The  very  essence 
of  our  faith  lies  in  the  conviction  that  the  Lord  will  not 
deal  with  us  after  our  sins,  nor  reward  us  according  to  our 
iniquities."  There  was  such  a  bright  light  in  her  eyes  and 
happy  note  in  her  voice  that  Mortimer  was  surprised,  and 
he  felt  cheered  and  encouraged  as  he  went  out  again  in  his 
quest  for  a  new  position. 

It  was  the  morning  after  his  return  from  Briarley,  and 
the  fear  of  sad  consequences  from  Bertha's  foolishly  willful 
step  in  going  directly  into  the  way  of  contagion,  was  always 
present  to  his  mind.  Most  ardently  he  longed  to  be  able 
to  write  to  his  mother  that  he  would  pay  the  necessary  ex- 
pense if  she  would  engage  a  good  nurse  ;  but  he  could  not 
do  this  unless  he  had  work,  as  even  if  Mark  repaid  what 
he  had  borrowed  it  would  soon  all  be  swallowed  up  by 

291 


2Q2  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

boarding  and  the  unavoidable  expenses  of  life  in  the  city 
away  from  his  own  home.  The  previous  morning  had 
passed  in  fruitless  search,  and  the  afternoon  had  brought 
him  no  better  success.  He  had  tried  all  the  places  where 
he  had  reason  to  expect  that  he  would  find  employment, 
and  at  last  he  thought  of  Harvey  &  Blake. 

"They  don't  want  anybody  in  Mark's  place,  so  it  is  use- 
less to  waste  time  trying  there,"  he  thought,  but  his  ill  suc- 
cess elsewhere  reduced  him  to  the  unpromising  chances, 
and  this  morning,  after  several  more  rebuffs,  he  went  to 
Harvey  &  Blake's. 

"You  are  a  friend  of  Mark  Willoughby,  I  believe,"  said 
Mr.  Blake,  the  junior  partner,  eyeing  him  in  a  way  that 
made  Mortimer  feel  decidedly  uncomfortable. 

Mortimer  was  surprised  to  find  himself  a  little  at  a  loss 
how  to  reply,  but  he  answered  after  a  slight  hesitation: 

"We  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  each  other  lately,  but 
now  it  may  be  different  A  married  man  does  not  always 
keep  up  the  same  friendships  that  he  had  as  a  bachelor." 

"Perhaps  you  think  it  will  be  well  to  have  done  with 
that  friendship,"  said  Mr.  Blake  in  a  curiously  meaning 
tone. 

"I  did  not  mean  to  imply  any  slur  on  Mark,"  said  Mor- 
timer flushing  hotly.  "  He  is  a  kind-hearted  fellow." 

•  •  Oh  yes,  oh  yes,  I  have  no  doubt  of  that, ' '  replied  Mr. 
Blake.  Then  he  tossed  over  the  morning  paper  to  Mor- 
timer and  said  carelessly : 

' '  Sit  down  a  moment,  will  you  ?  till  I  am  at  liberty  to 
speak  with  you  again." 

Mortimer  took  up  the  paper  and  found  that  it  was  opened 
to  the  account  of  a  gang  of  counterfeiters  who  had  been 
trying  to  pass  fraudulent  bank  notes.  He  read  listlessly, 
thinking  more  of  his  own  affairs  than  of  what  he  was  read- 


MARK    DEFENDS    MORTIMER  2Q3 

ing.  Presently  Mr.  Blake,  who  was  an  active,  wiry  little 
man,  with  black  eyes  and  hair  and  a  quick,  decided  way 
of  speaking  and  moving,  came  up  to  him  again  with  an 
envelope  in  his  hand. 

"A  bad  business  that,"  he  said,  nodding  toward  the 
paper,  "  It  was  mainly  fifties  that  they  were  trying  to  pass. 
Did  your  firm  get  hold  of  any  ?" 

"I  don't  know.     I  heard  nothing  about  it" 

"See  here,"  said  Mr.  Blake;  "pretty  good  specimens, 
hey  ? ' '  and  he  took  two  fifty-dollar  bills  out  of  the  envelope 
and  held  them  out  to  Mortimer,  eyeing  him  keenly  the 
while. 

"  Did  you  get  them  passed  on  you?"  asked  Mortimer, 
examining  the  notes  with  interest.  "They  are  well  done, 
but  I  can  see  the  faults,  now  that  you  call  my  attention  to 
them. ' ' 

' '  You  would  not  be  taken  in  by  them  ? ' '  queried  Mr. 
Blake.  "  Neither  would  I." 

"I  think  that  I  should  detect  them,"  said  Mortimer. 
"But  I  can't  be  too  sure  ;  for  you  had  called  my  attention 
to  the  matter  before  you  showed  me  these,  and  I  looked  at 
them  closely." 

"We  have  heard  something  about  you  from  different 
parties,"  said  Mr.  Blake,  abruptly  changing  the  subject 
"Mr.  Davenant  and  Mr.  Harvey  are  old  friends,  and  Mr. 
Harvey  dines  with  him  to-night  You  stop  in  there  in  the 
evening  and  see  Mr.  Harvey." 

"  I  should  not — I  mean  it  would  be  like  intruding," 
stammered  Mortimer.  "I  would  better  see  Mr.  Harvey 
in  office  hours." 

"No,  no,  he  won't  be  here  to-day,"  replied  Mr.  Blake. 
"And  Mr.  Davenant  goes  out  of  town  to-morrow.  You  go 
to-night  and  see  them  both. ' ' 


294  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

He  evidently  considered  the  interview  at  an  end,  and 
Mortimer  was  at  a  loss  what  to  think.  His  short,  abrupt 
manner  was  not  very  encouraging,  and  the  proposal  to  meet 
Mr.  Harvey  at  Mr.  Davenant's  might  simply  mean  that 
Mr.  Davenant  would  give  a  bad  report  of  him. 

He  went  out  into  the  street  in  a  state  of  doubt  and  de- 
pression, and  was  walking  moodily  along  when  his  eye 
chanced  to  fall  on  a  familiar  figure  coming  toward  him.  It 
was  Mark  Willoughby,  and  Mortimer's  heart  gave  a  bound. 
He  did  not  know  that  Mark  had  returned  to  town,  but  now 
he  was  eager  to  meet  him  and  get  the  mystery  explained. 
A  cross  street  lay  between  them,  and  Mark  stopped  at  the 
door  of  a  carriage  that  was  standing  by  the  curbstone  in 
front  of  a  large  store.  Mark's  glance  wandered  along  the 
street,  and  Mortimer  felt  sure  that  he  saw  him,  for  he 
turned  with  a  quick  movement  and  put  his  foot  on  the  step 
as  if  to  enter  the  carriage.  Then  he  drew  back,  said  a 
word  to  some  one  inside  it,  and  gave  a  direction  to  the 
coachman.  The  door  closed  and  the  carriage  rolled  away, 
while  Mark  came  straight  forward  to  meet  Mortimer.  He 
held  out  his  hand  cordially,  but  his  manner  was  nervous 
and  embarrassed  as  Mortimer  had  never  before  seen  it,  and 
he  cut  short  all  conventional  greetings  with  the  words  : 

"I  say,  old  fellow,  come  around  with  me  to  Uncle 
Palmer's  office.  I  hear  that  my  uncle  has  got  some  crazy 
notion  in  his  head  about  you,  and  we  must  set  it  straight" 

Mortimer  began  with  eager  questions  and  explanations, 
but  Mark  strode  along  scarcely  seeming  to  hear  or  heed 
him.  The  distance  was  not  great,  and  they  soon  found 
themselves  entering  the  well-known  dingy  room.  Mr. 
Palmer  and  Mr.  Davenant  were  both  in  the  inner  office, 
and  Mark  marched  in,  beckoning  to  Mortimer  to  follow 
him. 


MARK    DEFENDS    MORTIMER  295 

"I  say,  uncle,"  he  began,  "what  is  all  this  fuss  about 
Mort  ?" 

Mr.  Palmer  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  and  did  not  imme- 
diately reply,  but  Mark  continued  hurling  out  his  words  in 
a  hurry,  as  though  he  was  afraid  to  pause  lest  he  should 
not  say  it  all. 

"Mort  never  had  any  dealings  with  Hamilton,  I'll  be 
bound ;  and  he  never  touched  a  cent  that  did  not  belong  to 
him.  What  is  that  writing  that  is  making  all  the  row  ? 
Just  show  it  to  me." 

His  tone  was  impatient  and  imperious,  but  Mr.  Palmer 
slowly  took  out  the  sheet  of  paper  that  Hamilton  had  given 
him. 

"  Mort  sent  me  that  because  I  had  asked  him  to  lend  me 
money,  and  he  refused ;  and  then,  like  the  good  fellow  that 
he  is,  he  thought  better  of  it  and  sent  me  this  note  by  his 
little  brother." 

"How  did  Hamilton  get  it?"  asked  Mr.  Davenant 

"That's  easily  explained,"  replied  Mark.  "I  owed 
the  money  to  Hamilton  and  he  meant  to  go  to  my  father 
about  it  When  Jack  brought  me  these  lines  from  Mort,  I 
was  puzzled  how  I  could  get  word  to  Hamilton  in  time  to 
prevent  a  row,  and  just  at  the  moment  I  saw  him  on  the 
street;  so,  as  I  had  no  time  to  lose,  I  pulled  Mort's  note 
out  and  told  Jack  to  run  like  a  good  fellow  and  give  it  to 
Hamilton.  I  did  not  know  that  Hamilton  knew  Mort's 
handwriting,  and  the  note  would  do  for  my  own,  as  you  can 
see.  Hamilton  knew  very  well  who  sent  it,  for  he  came  to 
me  and  got  the  money." 

There  was  an  uncomfortable  pause  in  the  room  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  Mr.  Palmer  asked  coldly: 

"Did  you  not  deny  having  had  any  dealings  with  Hamil- 
ton for  months  ? ' ' 


296  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

Mark  flushed  dark  red  for  a  second,  then  he  answered 
boldly :  "I  did,  and  I  lied  about  it,  as  many  a  man  is  forced 
to  do  when  his  elders  try  to  hedge  him  up  too  closely." 

Mortimer's  eyes  had  been  fixed  on  Mark  with  a  look  of 
gratitude  and  pride,  but  at  the  defiant  tone  and  words  his 
brow  clouded  and  he  bit  his  lip. 

"All  this  does  not  explain  what  has  become  of  the  miss- 
ing money,"  said  Mr.  DavenanL  "If  Hamilton  was  in- 
terested in  the  game,  he  may  have  had  a  hand  in  that" 

Suddenly  Mortimer  sprang  forward  and  opened  the  closet 
door. 

"If  Hamilton  was  in  the  office  that  morning,  he  must 
have  been  hidden  somewhere  while  I  was  here,  for  I  did 
not  see  him.  I  remember  closing  this  door  as  I  went  out  to 
see  Jack" 

"I  don't  believe  that  I  opened  the  closet  at  all,"  said 
Mr.  DavenanL  "I  think  I  flung  my  hat  and  coat  on  the 
chair." 

Mortimer  was  already  ferreting  in  the  closet,  which  was 
just  large  enough  to  conceal  a  man.  An  old  summer  coat 
of  Mr.  Palmer's  hung  in  the  farthest  corner,  and  as  Mor- 
timer shook  it,  something  dropped  into  his  hand.  He 
fetched  it  out  to  the  light  and  discovered  that  it  was  a  little 
silver  pencil  case  in  the  form  of  a  papoose  ;  pressure  on 
the  feet  caused  the  pencil  to  start  out  of  the  head.  It  had 
also  a  little  ring  by  means  of  which  it  could  be  fastened  to 
a  watch  chain. 

"That  is  Hamilton's,"  said  Mark  coolly.  "I  have 
often  seen  it  on  his  watch-guard,  and  when  I  last  saw  him 
I  noticed  that  he  had  not  got  it,  for  he  asked  me  to  lend 
him  a  pencil.  I  asked  whether  he  had  lost  his  papoose, 
and  he  said  no,  that  it  was  out  of  order  and  he  had  left  it 
to  be  repaired." 


MARK    DEFENDS    MORTIMER  297 

Mr.  Palmer  sat  silent,  tapping  the  desk  with  his  fingers. 
He  did  not  look  at  either  of  the  young  men,  but  his  brow 
was  very  dark. 

"I  am  glad  that  it  is  all  cleared  up,"  said  Mr.  Dave- 
nant  kindly  to  Mortimer.  "  I  wish  that  we  could  get  hold 
of  this  Hamilton  and  make  him  smart  for  his  rascality." 

"He  knows  too  well  how  to  take  care  of  himself,"  re- 
plied Mark,  with  a  little  laugh.  Then  he  said  a  jaunty 
good-morning  and  walked  out,  followed  by  Mortimer. 

As  soon  as  they  were  in  the  street  Mortimer  grasped  his 
hand  and  began  to  thank  him ;  but  Mark  only  shrugged  his 
shoulders  impatiently,  exclaiming: 

"  How  was  anybody  to  suppose  that  they  would  be  such 
simpletons  as  to  come  down  on  you  ?  Anybody  with  half 
an  eye  might  see  that  you  have  too  much  religion  in  you 
for  any  sharp  tricks. ' ' 

"I  wish  that  the  same  thing  could  be  said  of  you, 
Mark,"  replied  Mortimer  bluntly.  "It  is  the  only  safe 
way. ' ' 

"Not  so  safe  after  all,"  said  Mark  jestingly.  "  It  took 
my  intervention,  iniquitous  though  you  may  consider  me, 
to  get  you  out  of  that  tangle." 

"Mark,"  interposed  Mortimer  firmly,  "you  are  far  too 
good  a  fellow  to  let  yourself  go  in  this  way.  You  know 
well  enough  that  it  was  a  sharp  trick  that  started  all  the 
trouble. ' ' 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  because  I  denied  having  had  any 
communication  with  Hamilton,"  retorted  Mark  sharply. 
"Well,  at  all  events,  I  ate  my  crow  without  any  wry  face, 
though  you  need  not  suppose  from  that  that  it  was  pleasant; 
and  as  for  Hamilton,  you  don't  know  the  whole  of  that 
story,  and  you  can't  judge." 

Mortimer  had  no  wish  to  irritate  his  friend,  and  he  saw 


298  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

that  any  further  words  would  be  taken  amiss.  At  the  next 
turning,  Mark  said  good-bye  and  left  him,  and  he  hurried 
home  to  lunch  greatly  encouraged  over  the  prospect  of  his 
visit  in  the  evening  to  Mr.  Davenant.  He  found  a  letter 
from  Jessica  awaiting  him  that  gave  the  news  that  he  had 
dreaded.  Bertha  was  taking  the  disease,  and  their  mother 
had  two  patients  to  tend  instead  of  one.  It  flashed  into 
Mortimer's  mind  that  if  Mark  had  only  paid  him  what  he 
owed  him  he  could  have  sent  the  money  to  his  mother  and 
managed  to  scrape  along  on  very  little  himself;  but  after 
the  way  in  which  Mark  had  spoken  in  his  favor,  he  did  not 
like  to  dun  him  for  the  money,  and  he  had  no  doubt  that 
it  would  come  soon. 

As  he  went  to  his  aunt' s  room  to  read  to  her  Jessica' s 
letter,  he  met  her  coming  to  find  him  in  a  tremulous  flutter 
of  pleasure. 

"My  dear  boy,  here  is  an  invitation  for  us  both  to  dine 
at  Mr.  Davenant' s  to-night  You  will  go,  won' t  you  ? ' ' 
she  asked. 

Mortimer  agreed  very  heartily,  though  he  was  surprised 
that  his  aunt,  who  usually  cared  nothing  about  going  out  in 
the  evenings,  should  seem  so  pleased;  but  with  the  uncon- 
scious vanity  of  youth  he  set  it  all  down  to  her  interest  in 
himself. 

When  they  entered  the  drawing  room  at  Mr.  Davenant' s, 
they  found  their  host  conversing  with  Mr.  Harvey,  and  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  room  Mrs.  Davenant  and  Myrtle 
were  sitting  beside  a  gentleman  whom  they  seemed  to  have 
taken  possession  of,  for  Myrtle  was  leaning  upon  him  in 
the  most  confiding  manner  and  Mrs.  Davenant' s  hand  was 
clasped  in  his,  and  she  did  not  relax  her  hold  as  she  rose 
and  held  out  the  other  hand  to  Miss  Clive. 

Mortimer  recognized  Mr.  Brant,  but  his  amazement  al- 


MARK    DEFENDS    MORTIMER 

most  led  him  to  doubt  his  own  eyes  when  he  heard  Mrs. 
Davenant's  sweet,  clear  voice  saying: 

"  Miss  Clive,  it  is  very  good  of  you  to  come  and  let  me 
introduce  to  you  my  brother,  Mr.  Brant"  Then  turning 
to  Mortimer,  she  added,  • '  You  need  no  introduction,  Mr. 
Winstead,  but  it  is  many  years  since  my  brother  and  your 
aunt  have  met" 

His  hostess  noted  his  surprise,  and  there  was  a  merry 
glance  in  her  eyes  as  she  took  an  opportunity,  when  the 
others  were  engaged  in  conversation,  to  sit  down  beside  him 
and  give  a  little  explanation. 

"You  are  really  the  cause  of  my  finding  my  brother," 
she  said;  "for  he  came  in  your  behalf  to  Mr.  Lindsay's 
office,  and  there  my  husband  met  him  and  was  struck  by 
the  name." 

' '  I  thought, ' '  said  Mortimer,  ' '  that  your  father' s  name 
was  Stanhope.'  I  have  heard  Mr.  Davenant  speak  of  Mr. 
Stanhope." 

"Yes,  my  father,  but  my  mother  was  Mrs.  Brant  before 
she  married  my  father,  and  Alfred  lived  with  us  till  he 
went  to  college.  After  that  there  was  an  unfortunate  mis- 
understanding between  him  and  my  father,  and  he  went 
West  and  we  lost  all  track  of  him;  for  my  mother  died 
soon  after  he  left,  and  then  all  correspondence  dropped.  I 
was  a  little  child  at  the  time,  scarcely  as  old  as  Myrtle,  but 
I  was  very  fond  of  my  big  brother;  and  I  had  good  cause 
to  be  so,  for  he  petted  and  spoiled  me  finely  when  he  was 
at  home. 

That  Mrs.  Brant  should  be  related  to  themselves  had 
seemed  to  Mortimer  very  lucky  for  the  Brants  ;  but  now 
the  idea  that  Mr.  Brant  was  the  brother  of  such  charming 
and  wealthy  people  as  the  Davenants,  quite  took  his  breath 
away.  He  gave  a  hasty  glance  around  the  room,  wonder- 


3OO  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

ing  how  Mrs.  Brant  would  impress  a  lady  of  such  taste  and 
refinement  as  Mrs.  Davenant  ;  and  he  was  inclined  to  feel 
vexed  at  noticing  that  she  was  not  present,  but  his  hostess 
seemed  to  divine  his  thought,  for  she  said: 

' '  I  fear  that  we  must  also  lay  it  at  your  sister' s  door  that 
my  brother's  wife  is  not  with  us  this  evening.  We  were 
very  sorry  to  hear  of  your  sister's  illness.  Alfred  tells  me 
that  your  mother  is  worn  with  nursing,  and  his  wife  has 
taken  the  care  of  your  sister  Bertha  entirely  into  her  own 
hands." 

Here  was  a  new  revelation  to  Mortimer,  though  he  had 
seen  enough  of  Mrs.  Brant  not  to  be  at  all  surprised.  He 
wondered  a  little  how  Bertha  felt,  but  the  relief  to  his  own 
mind  was  very  great 

The  evening  seemed  to  pass  like  a  dream  to  him.  He 
heard  Myrtle' s  merry  chatter  as  she  recalled  the  windy  night 
when  her  uncle  had  snatched  her  from  the  wheels  of  Mr. 
Palmer's  carriage  ;  and  he  heard  Mr.  Brant's  quiet,  delib- 
erate tones  replying,  and  telling  the  child  that  she  looked 
the  image  of  her  mother  when  he  last  saw  her.  Then  came 
a  quiet  conversation  with  Mr.  Harvey,  in  which  Mr. 
Davenant  seemed  to  be  as  deeply  interested  as  Mortimer 
himself,  and  the  result  of  all  was  that  Mortimer  found  him- 
self engaged  to  fill  the  position  that  Mark  had  left  at 
Harvey  &  Blake's,  only  with  good  prospects  of  a  rise. 

He  unintentionally  caught  a  few  words  between  Mr. 
Harvey  and  Mr.  Davenant  that  worried  him  on  Mark's 
account  Mr.  Harvey  was  saying  something  about  business 
in  general  when  he  suddenly  remarked : 

"I  can't  understand  why  you  were  so  hard  on  Harry 
Neal." 

Mr.  Davenant' s  face  clouded  and  he  replied  : 

"That  was  a  mistake.     You  see  I  had  given  Harry  my 


MARK    DEFENDS    MORTIMER  30 1 

promise  without  any  idea  that  Palmer  intended  to  act  so 
hastily.  In  fact  he  did  not  mean  to  do  so  himself ;  but  he 
got  a  telegram  from  his  nephew  that  alarmed  him,  and  he 
went  and  put  the  check  in  before  I  saw  him  the  next 
morning." 

1 '  Well,  well,  it  won' t  break  Neal ;  he  has  found  friends 
to  help  him  through  and  he  is  really  all  right  I  think  I 
know  who  was  trying  to  spread  reports  to  injure  him  ;  and 
if  I  am  right,  the  man  is  wanted  for  some  rascally  work  and 
will  have  to  look  out  for  himself  if  he  expects  to  keep  out 
of  jail.  At  all  events  he  will  have  no  time  for  bothering 
Neal  any  more." 

"You  don't  mean  Graves!"  exclaimed  Mr.   Davenant. 

Mr.  Harvey  nodded,  and  added  :  "I'm  sorry  that  Mark 
had  anything  to  say  in  the  matter." 

Mr.  Davenant  looked  uncomfortable,  but  the  subject  was 
dropped,  and  Mortimer  could  only  conjecture  who  this 
Graves  might  be  and  what  Mark  could  have  to  do  with 
him. 

He  and  his  aunt  went  home  with  light  hearts  that 
evening.  Mortimer  slept  more  soundly  than  he  had  done 
since  the  disastrous  thirty-first  of  March  ;  and  Miss  Clive, 
if  she  did  not  sleep  much,  lay  awake  with  thankful 
thoughts  crowding  her  mind  as  she  felt  that  the  evil 
wrought  by  her  careless  words  was  now  being  wiped  out 

The  young  rarely  guess  the  romances  that  may  be  hidden 
under  gray  hairs  and  withered  brows,  but  Mrs.  Davenant 
was  warm-hearted  and  sympathetic,  and  she  had  a  secret 
theory  of  her  own  as  to  why  Miss  Clive  had  grieved  so  bit- 
terly over  the  mischief  wrought  to  her  brother,  for  she  knew 
that  twenty-five  years  ago  the  little  lady  was  not  a  slightly 
deformed  figure  but  a  bright  and  comely  girl  with  all  a 
girl's  enthusiasms. 


3O2  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"I  suppose  that  she  was  a  little  older  than  he,  but  she 
would  have  suited  him  so  well,"  Mrs.  Davenant  thought 
half  regretfully.  ' '  I  wonder  whether  I  shall  like  his  wife 
as  well  as  I  like  her." 

Miss  Clive  on  the  contrary  was  thinking: 

"How  his  face  lighted  up  when  he  spoke  of  his  wife. 
She  is  a  good  woman  I  know,  and  just  the  person  for  him." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE    REAL   CULPRIT   CONFESSES 

"  T  DON'T  believe  a  word  of  it     It  is  all  a  made-up 

-••     story,"  said  Mr.  Palmer  doggedly  the  next  day. 

"How  do  you  account  for  the  pencil?"  asked  Mr. 
Davenant,  turning  over  the  little  trinket  that  lay  on  the  desk 
before  him. 

"  It  was  Winstead  who  fetched  it  out  of  the  closet ;  and 
it  may  have  been  in  Winstead' s  hand  all  the  time, ' '  replied 
Mr.  Palmer.  "I  do  not  believe  he  found  it  there." 

' '  Oh,  come  now,  that  is  drawing  it  too  strong, ' '  ex- 
postulated Mr.  DavenanL  "Why,  even  when  I  thought 
that  Winstead  had  carelessly  lost  that  money,  I  did  not 
think  he  was  so  tricky  as  you  would  make  him  out  Be 
fair  to  the  lad. ' ' 

"I  am  fair,"  growled  Mr.  Palmer.  "I  had  complete 
faith  in  the  fellow  ;  but  when  he  proved  himself  unworthy 
of  confidence,  I  had  to  protect  our  interests.  No  man  can 
say  that  I  have  been  unjust  to  him,  and  no  man  can  boast 
that  he  has  fooled  me  twice." 

"  Mark's  story  was  pretty  straight  and  conclusive." 

"Nonsense  !  I  know  the  quixotic  ideas  that  young  men 
will  sometimes  get  about  helping  a  friend  out  of  a  muddle," 
returned  Mr.  Palmer. 

Mr.  Davenant  opened  his  lips  to  repeat  what  Mr.  Harvey 
had  told  him  about  Harry  Neal,  but  he  saw  that  his  partner 
was  irritated  and  judged  it  best  to  avoid  any  unpleasant 
topics. 

3°3 


3O4  THE    MERRIVALE    WILL 

"Erskine  is  coming  out  to  dine  with  me  to-night,"  said 
Mr.  Palmer  ;  "and  I  must  go,  as  I  promised  to  meet  him 
at  the  station." 

' '  And  I  must  go  to  see  Lindsay  about  some  business  that 
my  wife  has  in  her  mind, ' '  replied  Mr.  Davenant.  ' '  When 
is  Mark  going  to  begin  work  ?  This  is  a  desultory  way  of 
getting  along." 

"  In  a  day  or  two,"  returned  Mr.  Palmer.  "A  young 
man  doesn'  t  get  married  every  day,  and  of  course  he  wants 
a  little  honeymoon." 

With  these  words  they  parted  ;  Mr.  Davenant  bound  on 
the  errand  for  his  wife,  which  was  to  consult  Mr.  Lindsay  as 
to  the  best  way  of  arranging  for  a  comfortable  income  to  be 
paid  to  Mr.  Brant  from  the  large  fortune  left  to  her  by 
her  father  ;  and  Mr.  Palmer  to  show  every  attention  to  his 
nephew's  rich  father-in-law. 

As  the  carriage  that  had  been  sent  to  meet  Mr.  Palmer 
and  his  guest  drove  up  to  the  cheerfully  lighted  house  at 
Briarley,  a  boy  was  standing  on  the  steps.  As  soon  as  Mr. 
Palmer  alighted  from  the  carriage,  he  accosted  him  : 

1 '  There' s  a  man  sick  over  to  our  place  who  wants  to  see 
you  real  bad." 

• '  Who  are  you,  and  where  is  your  place  ? ' '  asked  Mr. 
Palmer,  straining  his  eyes  to  see  the  lad's  face  through  the 
gathering  dusk. 

"I'm  John  Gilbert,  sir,"  replied  the  lad.  "  I  guess  you 
know  our  place  over  by  Neman's  End." 

"That's  a  long  way,  my  lad,"  said  Mr.  Palmer,  who  was 
pleasant  in  his  manner  to  any  one  who  came  to  ask  help 
if  he  thought  that  it  was  a  worthy  case.  "Is  it  very 
pressing?" 

"  I  can't  say,"  replied  the  boy.  "There's  a  man  sick 
in  that  old  tumble-down  house  on  the  Crosley  farm  ;  and 


THE    REAL    CULPRIT    CONFESSES  305 

his  wife  asked  me  to  come  for  you,  as  her  husband  wanted 
to  see  you." 

"That  is  a  wretched  place.  It  has  no  roof,"  said  Mr. 
Palmer. 

"' Tain' t  much  for  comfort,"  admitted  the  boy;  "but  they 
have  been  there  several  days. ' ' 

' '  See  here,  don' t  let  me  hinder  you  if  you  have  an  er- 
rand," said  Mr.  Erskine. 

"Somebody  in  trouble  and  needing  help,  I  suppose," 
said  Mr.  Palmer,  who  was  pleased  to  find  a  chance  at  hand 
to  be  kindly  and  bountiful,  as  he  was  annoyed  by  the  way 
affairs  were  turning  out  in  the  case  of  Mortimer  Winstead, 
and  did  not  feel  as  thoroughly  satisfied  with  his  own  course 
as  he  had  tried  to  lead  Mr.  Davenant  to  suppose.  "  It  is  a 
moonlight  night.  What  do  you  say  if  we  drive  over  after 
dinner?  You  could  see  a  little  of  the  country." 

Mr.  Erskine  readily  agreed,  orders  were  given  accord- 
ingly, and  young  Gilbert  departed. 

After  dinner  was  over  the  two  gentlemen  started  on  their 
drive,  taking  a  light  carriage  which  just  held  the  two.  It 
was,  as  Mr.  Palmer  had  said,  a  long  drive  to  Noman'  s  End, 
and  as  they  approached  it  the  ruined  old  house  loomed  up 
dark  and  dismal  in  the  moonlight  The  chimney  rose  tall 
and  gloomy  with  a  black  patch  on  the  moonlit  side,  show- 
ing where  a  fireplace  had  been  in  the  decayed  upper  story. 
Down  below  there  was  evidently  a  room  that  could  be  made 
habitable.  A  faint  light  shone  from  the  cracks  of  a  closed 
door  and  a  crazy  window  shutter.  Mr.  Palmer  got  out,  tied 
his  horse,  and  followed  by  Mr.  Erskine  made  his  way  over 
a  rickety  worm  fence  and  through  the  brambles  to  the  door. 

"Is  that  you,  doctor?"  called  a  woman,  as  he  knocked. 

"Is  it  quite  safe?"  whispered  Mr.  Erskine.  "  It  looks 
as  though  they  might  be  tramps  or  pretty  bad  characters." 

U 


306  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

' '  Oh,  they  won' t  do  us  any  harm, ' '  replied  Mr.  Palmer 
carelessly,  and  raising  his  voice  he  called,  "No.  Did  you 
expect  no  one  but  the  doctor?" 

The  door  opened  and  a  neat,  decent-looking  woman 
peeped  out. 

"Are  you  Mr.  Palmer?"  she  asked,  and  on  being  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative  she  pulled  the  door  wide  enough 
open  to  admit  the  two  gentlemen  ;  for  Mr.  Erskine,  only 
half  reassured,  determined  not  to  leave  his  companion  un- 
supported. 

As  Mr.  Palmer  entered  he  noticed  that  the  woman  was 
much  too  respectable  to  belong  to  the  tribe  of  tramps,  and 
at  one  time  she  might  have  been  good-looking  ;  but  she  had 
a  stolid  expression  that  gave  the  impression  of  deficient 
intellect 

"Robert,"  she  called,  approaching  a  miserable  bedstead 
in  the  other  end  of  the  room,  • '  the  boy  has  took  the  mes- 
sage and  here  is  the  man  you  wanted  to  see." 

"Bring  him  nearer,  can' t  you  ?  And  set  the  lamp  down. 
I  want  to  see  ii  it  is  the  right  one,"  gasped  a  weak,  rattling 
voice,  as  the  figure  lying  on  the  bed  turned  and  tossed  out 
an  arm. 

Something  gave  Mr.  Palmer  a  shiver  as  he  approached 
the  wretched  object,  but  it  was  not  until  the  woman  had 
pushed  forward  a  bench  for  him  to  sit  on,  and  had  placed 
the  lamp  on  a  box  beside  the  bed,  that  he  got  a  good  look 
at  the  man' s  face,  and  then  he  recognized  under  the  growth 
of  stubbly  red  beard  the  features  of  Robert  Hamilton. 

"That's  right.  You're  the  man  I  want,"  gasped  Ham- 
ilton. ' '  You  think  F  m  pretty  well  through,  don' t  you  ? 
But  I  guess  I've  got  enough  grit  left  to  say  all  I  want  to 
say. ' ' 

Mr.  Palmer  was  too  much  startled  and  shocked  to  answer 


THE    REAL    CULPRIT    CONFESSES  3O/ 

a  word,  and  Hamilton  resumed  with  a  feeble  attempt  at  a 
laugh. 

"I  suppose  this  is  my  confession.  Wouldn't  you  feel 
bad  if  you  knew  what  became  of  that  fifty-dollar  bill  ? 
Well,  I'  11  tell  you  :  I  got  it.  I  was  in  there  and  skipped 
into  the  closet,  and  when  the  two  fellows  went  out  and  left 
the  money  lying  on  the  desk  I  slipped  out  and  grabbed  a 
bill.  One  wouldn'  t  be  missed.  Sorry  I  didn'  t  take  more. 
That  man  Davenant  is  easy  gulled  ;  he  never  would  have 
known." 

Hamilton  stopped  to  laugh  but  coughed  instead  so  se- 
verely that  the  woman  had  to  come  to  his  relief  with  some- 
thing that  she  gave  him  as  soon  as  he  could  swallow.  A 
heavy  frown  was  settling  on  Mr.  Palmer' s  brow. 

"You  see  I  had  been  shoving  so  many  queer  fifties  that 
I  was  getting  into  trouble.  I  trusted  your  nephew  Mark, 
and  he  was  not  sharp  enough,  but  got  spotted.  So  I  had  to 
have  some  good  notes  to  keep  me  out  of  trouble.  Awful 
rascal,  Mark  was  ;  he  went  and  blabbed  after  all  I  had  done 
for  him.  But  he  needn'  t  be  so  high.  Got  a  rich  wife,  and 
thought  he'  d  throw  me  over.  But  the  secret  service  were 
after  me,  and  they  have  got  a  fine  haul.  'Taint  my  fault 
that  some  of  Mark's  letters  got  taken  with  my  things,  eh  ? 
Awfully  sorry — can' t  be  helped — but  thought  you  ought  to 
know,"  and  he  glared  at  Mr.  Palmer  with  a  look  of  mock 
regret  and  secret  malicious  glee  that  made  that  gentleman' s 
blood  run  cold. 

"See  here,  Hamilton,  or  whatever  your  name  really  is, 
what  are  you  telling  all  this  string  of  lies  to  me  for?  Do 
you  expect  to  get  money  out  of  me  ?" 

"Money!  No.  What  do  I  want  of  your  money?" 
snarled  the  man.  "  My  last  haul  of  that  at  the  Winstead 
place  has  finished  me.  But  how  could  I  tell  that  the 


3O8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

child  had  got  this  killing  affair  ?  Children  are  always  sick 
with  something.  But  I'  11  get  fun  out  of  it ;  oh,  yes  !  See 
the  man  who  never  was  unjust  to  his  employees  and  has 
fired  an  honest  lad  to  make  a  place  for  his  wife's  nephew, 
a  green-goods  swindler!"  and  Hamilton  went  off  into  a 
horrible,  mocking  laugh,  that  threatened  to  strangle  him. 

Mr.  Palmer  sat  speechless  with  indignation  and  some- 
thing that  very  nearly  resembled  fright.  The  mad  ravings 
fitted  in  too  exactly  with  what  he  had  already  heard  for  him 
to  take  refuge  in  the  conviction  that  it  was  all  a  string  of 
malicious  lies.  He  had  entirely  forgotten  Mr.  Erskine,  but 
the  sound  of  still  another  footstep  at  the  door  aroused  him, 
and  a  voice  exclaimed, 

"What  on  earth  is  this?  Didn't  I  tell  you  that  nobody 
was  to  be  allowed  to  come  in  here  ? ' ' 

The  words  were  addressed  in  tones  of  sharp  displeasure 
to  the  woman,  and  Mr.  Palmer  recognized  the  voice  of 
Doctor  Scott. 

"He  would  not  be  at  peace  till  I  sent  the  message,"  re- 
monstrated the  woman.  ' '  I  had  to  let  it  go. ' ' 

"  Well,  if  you  think  that  I  am  going  to  be  at  peace  while 
you  spread  black  diphtheria  around  the  neighborhood,  you 
are  very  much  mistaken, ' '  replied  Doctor  Scott.  ' '  But  of 
all  people,  you,  Palmer !  Why,  I  thought  that  you  had 
more  sense.  Get  out  of  here,  both  of  you,  and  wait  out- 
side for  me.  Mind,  you  are  not  to  go  home." 

Mr.  Palmer  rose  uncertainly  to  his  feet,  and  as  he  turned 
he  looked  straight  into  the  pale  and  agitated  face  of  Mr. 
Erskine. 

"Come  out  of  this,"  Mr.  Palmer  whispered  hoarsely. 
"It's  all  lies  ;  the  man  is  crazy." 

But  Hamilton  gathered  up  his  strength  to  shriek  after 
him:  "See  the  just  man  !  Money,  you  said.  Will  money 


THE    REAL    CULPRIT    CONFESSES  309 

take  the  stain  off  of  your  fine  nephew  ?  Will  money 
right  all  your  injustice?  Hold  up  your  head  if  you  dare. 
I  only  wish  you  would  catch  this  fever  that  is  taking  me  off 
the  hooks  ;  but  I'm  even  with  you."  He  flung  out  his  arm 
in  a  desperate  attempt  to  catch  Mr.  Palmer' s  coat,  but  the 
doctor  interposed,  and  with  authoritative  hand  and  voice 
put  the  arm  back,  while  the  two  gentlemen  hurried  out  of 
hearing  of  the  wild  ravings. 

The  chilly  April  night  sent  a  shiver  through  Mr.  Palmer 
as  he  stepped  out  into  the  flood  of  white  moonlight  ;  but  in 
the  next  moment  a  hot  glow  of  indignation  tingled  through 
him  as  he  thought  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  been  twisted 
around  the  finger  of  such  a  rogue  as  Hamilton  and  out- 
witted by  Mark 

"What  does  all  this  mean?"  asked  Mr.  Erskine  sternly. 

"How  can  I  tell?"  replied  Mr.  Palmer  irritably.  "The 
fellow  is  delirious  or  crazy,  as  I  told  you." 

"That  man  is  Graves,  the  counterfeiter,  who  escaped  the 
detectives,"  replied  Mr.  Erskine  positively.  "Mark  my 
words  ;  I  am  right.  But  what  has  your  nephew  to  do  with 
him?"  He  had  spoken  sharply  and  sternly;  but  now  he 
exclaimed  in  an  undertone,  ' '  Oh,  my  poor  little  Juliet !  my 
poor  little  girl  !" 

Mr.  Palmer  winced,  and  the  hasty  reply  on  his  lips  re- 
mained unspoken. 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  have  to  say  it,"  continued  Mr. 
Erskine  ;  ' '  but  you  must  see  that  we  have  not  been  treated 
right  I  don' t  say  anything  about  the  marriage,  for  that 
was  not  a  deliberate  plan  ;  but  Mr.  Willoughby  never  called 
on  us  till  yesterday,  and  his  daughter  didn't  come  with 
him.  Oh,  he  made  all  excuses  for  her,"  he  hastened  to 
add,  as  he  saw  that  Mr.  Palmer  was  going  to  interrupt. 
"He  said  she  was  not  well  and  would  come  to-day  or  as 


3IO  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

soon  as  she  could  be  out,  and  he  was  civil  enough  himself. 
But  it  is  queer.  Maybe  he  knew  that  all  this  would  come 
out  upon  me." 

"That  I  am  sure  he  did  not,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Palmer. 
"  He  has  not  heard  a  word  of  all  this  string  of  lies,  nor  had 
I  till  to-night.  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  brought  you  out  to 
have  your  mind  disturbed  with  such  trash. ' ' 

"The  man  has  some  hold  on  Mark,"  said  Mr.  Erskine, 
shaking  his  head.  ' '  I  wish  that  I  could  get  back  to  town 
to-night. ' ' 

• '  I  don' t  think  that  you  ought  to  go  back  to  your  family 
straight  from  that  place,"  said  Mr.  Palmer,  with  a  little 
shudder  as  he  glanced  back  toward  the  wretched  room. 

The  two  men  paced  up  and  down  silently  after  this  in 
the  cold  moonlight.  Neither  one  cared  to  speak.  Mr. 
Erskine  was  absorbed  in  sorrowful,  indignant  thoughts  of 
his  child,  and  Mr.  Palmer  was  too  bitterly  shamed  and 
galled  to  have  a  word  to  say.  At  last,  to  their  relief,  the 
doctor  appeared,  and  in  his  usual  cheery,  hearty  tones 
called  to  them  to  get  into  their  carriage  without  further 
delay. 

"  It  is  well  that  we  have  a  pretty  long  distance  to  go," 
he  remarked  to  Mr.  Palmer,  "as  it  will  give  our  clothes  a 
good  airing  ;  but  I  think  that  you  would  better  stop  at  my 
place  and  send  up  for  another  suit."  He  glanced  curiously 
at  Mr.  Erskine  as  he  spoke,  and  Mr.  Palmer,  suddenly  re- 
called from  his  moody  reflections,  hastened  to  introduce  the 
gentlemen  to  each  other. 

Mark  Willoughby's  marriage  had  been  talked  of  at 
Briarley,  and  the  notice  of  it  had  been  duly  published  in 
the  daily  papers.  Thus  the  name  of  Erskine  at  once 
caught  the  doctor's  attention.  He  was  shrewd  enough  to 
guess  that  there  had  been  some  unpleasant  disclosure  that 


THE    REAL    CULPRIT    CONFESSES  3  I  I 

evening,  and  he  whistled  softly  to  himself  as  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  after  the  carriage  which  was  already 
jolting  over  the  uneven  road.  As  they  emerged  upon  the 
broad  and  smooth  turnpike  which  led  to  Briarley  he  came 
up  abreast  of  the  carriage,  and  Mr.  Palmer  leaned  out  to 
inquire  : 

' '  Who  was  that  man,  and  where  did  he  come  from  ? ' ' 

"  He  is  the  man  who  robbed  Merrivale  farmhouse,"  re- 
plied the  doctor.  "I  suspected  it  as  soon  as  I  found  that 
he  was  laid  up  with  diphtheria  in  that  wretched,  ruined 
place,  for  nobody  had  seen  him  before  the  date  of  the  rob- 
bery, and  no  doubt  he  got  the  disease  by  going  into  the 
room  of  Mrs.  Winstead'  s  sick  child.  The  exposure  to  wind 
and  rain  has  made  it  fasten  upon  him  so  viciously.  As  to 
his  name,  I  begin  to  believe  that  he  is  Graves,  of  whom  you 
have  of  course  read  in  the  papers.  He  goes  under  other 
names,  however,  for  Mrs.  Brant  told  me  this  afternoon  that 
a  man  who  called  himself  Hamilton  came  to  see  her  not 
long  ago.  She  had  a  feeling  that  she  had  seen  him  before, 
but  she  could  not  recall  where  until  this  talk  about  Graves 
reminded  her  of  a  man  who  went  under  that  name  out  in 
Colorado.  What  his  real  name  is  I  don' t  know,  but  there 
was  a  man  named  Hamilton  who  swindled  Mrs.  Winstead' s 
husband  out  of  a  good  deal  of  money." 

"Have  you  taken  any  steps  to  have  him  arrested?" 
asked  Mr.  Palmer. 

"No,"  replied  the  doctor.  "I  only  got  the  matter 
clearly  in  my  mind  to-night  ;  and  the  man  is  dying,  so 
there  is  no  danger  that  he  will  run  away  to  do  any  further 
mischief." 

"What  about  the  money  that  he  stole?"  asked  Mr. 
Palmer. 

1 '  I  shall  notify  the  police  and  they  can  search  and  take 


312  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

all  legal  steps  to  recover  that,"  replied  the  doctor.  "Now 
here  we  are  at  my  door.  Come  in  and  I  will  send  my  boy 
up  to  the  house  to  fetch  clothes  if  you  will  give  him  direc- 
tions, Palmer." 

' '  I  have  no  other  suit  with  me, ' '  remarked  Mr.  Erskine, 
"and  I  think  that  I  would  better  take  the  next  train  back 
to  town.  I  do  not  care  to  alarm  the  ladies,  and  of  course 
there  might  be  some  risk." 

In  truth,  Mr.  Erskine  placed  very  little  faith  in  all  Mr. 
Palmer' s  assertions  that  the  tale  he  heard  that  evening  was 
a  string  of  lies,  and  he  did  not  care  to  return  to  Mr.  Pal- 
mer's  house.  Mr.  Palmer  began  to  offer  a  suit  of  his  own 
clothes,  but  the  two  men  were  of  such  totally  different  build 
that  this  was  obviously  useless,  and  the  doctor  interposed 
with  a  hearty  invitation  that  Mr.  Erskine  should  spend  the 
night  with  him. 

"I'll  give  you  as  good  entertainment  as  my  bachelor 
quarters  will  afford,  and  your  clothes  can  be  thoroughly 
aired  to-night.  They  may  get  a  touch  of  frost,  for  these 
April  nights  are  pretty  cold,"  he  said,  and  Mr.  Erskine 
gladly  availed  himself  of  the  friendly  invitation. 

Thus  the  matter  was  settled,  and  as  soon  as  the  messenger 
returned  with  his  clothes  Mr.  Palmer  departed  in  a  very  un- 
enviable state  of  mind. 

' '  I  hope  that  I  did  not  scare  Mr.  Palmer  with  all  these 
precautions, ' '  said  the  doctor  ;  ' '  but  really  the  case  is  one 
of  the  worst  I  ever  had." 

"  He  was  not  thinking  of  the  disease.  He  had  enough 
besides  that  to  make  him  look  queer,"  replied  Mr.  Erskine. 
"But  I  don't  want  to  talk  about  all  that  now.  If  you  don't 
mind,  I  should  like  to  hear  something  about  these  Win- 
steads.  Do  they  live  near  here  ?" 

The  doctor  was  started  on  a  congenial  topic,  and  before 


THE    REAL    CULPRIT    CONFESSES  313 

they  went  to  bed  Mr.  Erskine  was  pretty  well  posted  on  the 
Winstead  family. 

He  took  leave  of  his  hospitable  host  very  early  the  next 
morning,  as  he  was  anxious  to  return  to  town,  and  he  wished, 
if  possible,  to  avoid  meeting  Mr.  Palmer  on  the  train. 

Mark  had  already  gone  out  by  the  time  that  he  reached 
the  hotel,  but  Juliet  met  him,  radiant  with  delight,  and 
hastened  to  inform  him  that  Kate  Willoughby  had  called 
the  evening  before  and  had  been  very  pleasant  This 
meant  to  Juliet  the  prospect  of  parties  and  all  the  bridal 
gayeties  for  which  she  thirsted. 

"Would  it  be  too  soon  to  return  her  call  to-day  ?  I  think 
that  I  ought  to  go  soon,"  said  the  girl  eagerly  ;  "and  I  am 
sure  that  she  will  then  say  something  about  a  reception  or 
some  kind  of  party  to  introduce  me  to  their  friends." 

Her  father  could  not  bring  himself  to  say  anything  that 
might  dampen  her  pleasure,  and  he  kept  all  his  suspicions 
and  forebodings  to  be  shared  with  his  wife,  when  Juliet  was 
safely  out  of  hearing. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS 

MR.  PALMER  passed  a  very  restless  and  harassed 
night,  and  his  vexation  with  Mark  grew  more  in- 
tense as  he  realized  more  fully  the  extremely  unpleasant 
position  in  which  he  himself  was  now  placed.  At  first  he 
intended  to  question  Mark  himself ;  but  as  he  did  not  care 
to  meet  either  Mr.  Erskine  or  Mark's  wife,  he  decided  to 
take  the  chance  that  Mark  might  come  to  the  office.  The 
most  of  the  morning  passed  without  any  sign  of  Mark,  and, 
his  patience  being  sorely  tried,  he  went  straight  to  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby's.  He  was  told  by  the  servant  that  Mr.  Willoughby 
was  out,  but  would  be  home  by  noon,  and  he  was  taken 
into  the  library  to  wait  A  gentleman  was  sitting  there,  and 
as  Mr.  Palmer  entered  he  recognized  Mark's  former  em- 
ployer, Mr.  Blake.  After  the  first  commonplace  remarks 
had  passed  between  them,  Mr.  Blake  said : 

"I  was  waiting  to  see  Mr.  Willoughby,  but  I  am  glad  that 
you  came  in,  for  the  matter  concerns  you  pretty  nearly  since 
you  have  Mark  Willoughby  in  your  office,  and  you  can  use 
your  own  judgment  as  to  whether  you  will  tell  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby. ' ' 

They  were  sitting  in  the  same  room  in  which  Hamilton 
had  overheard  Bertha' s  remarks  about  the  Brants  ;  and  Mr. 
Palmer,  who  knew  the  house,  drew  aside  the  portiere  and 
glanced  into  the  long  drawing  room.  It  was  empty,  and  he 
let  fall  the  curtain  and  seated  himself  to  hear  what  Mr. 
Blake  had  to  say. 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  315 

"I  don't  care  to  be  unpleasant,"  began  Mr.  Blake,  in  his 
quick,  decided  way  ;  ' '  but  with  this  fuss  coming  up  in  the 
papers  about  this  gang  of  counterfeiters,  I  think  that  for  the 
young  man's  sake  as  well  as  for  your  own,  you  ought  to 
know  what  fault  we  had  to  find  with  Mark  Willoughby 
before  you  trust  him  any  farther." 

"  I  did  not  know  you  had  any  fault  to  find,"  replied  Mr. 
Palmer  shortly.  ' '  I  understood  that  you  were  cutting  down, 
and  discharged  him  because  he  was  the  youngest." 

"That  does  very  well  for  the  public,  just  as  your  excuse 
for  discharging  Mortimer  Winstead  may  do,  but  there  was 
something  back  of  both,"  replied  Mr.  Blake. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?"   asked  Mr.  Palmer  quickly. 

"Winstead  told  Mr.  Harvey  about  the  money  that  was 
missing,"  replied  Mr.  Blake.  "He  said  that  he  knew  that 
you  were  not  satisfied  with  his  explanations,  and  he  pre- 
ferred to  tell  us  the  worst  that  could  be  said  about  himself 
before  coming  into  our  employ.  I  confess  that  I  did  not 
want  to  take  him,  because  I  thought  that  he  was  a  friend  of 
Mark  and  very  likely  the  same  sort  of  fellow." 

Mr.  Palmer  frowned  and  appeared  to  be  about  to  inter- 
rupt, but  Mr.  Blake  held  up  his  hand. 

• '  I  don' t  want  to  make  myself  unnecessarily  disagree- 
able," he  said,  "but  this  tale  you  ought  to  hear,  and  I'll 
make  it  as  short  as  possible.  Back  in  the  winter  we  received 
some  money,  and  I  counted  it  and  put  it  in  the  safe.  Later 
Mr.  Harvey  had  occasion  to  count  it,  and  he  found  that  it 
was  short  He  spoke  to  me  about  it,  and  I  told  him  that  I 
had  taken  nothing  from  it.  The  next  day  I  counted  the 
same  money  and  it  was  all  there.  I  thought  that  Mr. 
Harvey  had  made  a  mistake,  and  he  was  sure  that  he  had 
not  However  we  sent  the  money  to  be  deposited  in 
bank,  and  got  back  word  that  there  was  a  counterfeit  fifty- 


316  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

dollar  bill  among  the  lot.  The  only  persons  besides  Mr. 
Harvey  and  myself  who  had  had  access  to  that  money  were 
the  bookkeeper  and  Mark,  and  we  told  the  bookkeeper  to 
keep  quiet  about  the  matter.  Again  a  small  sum  was  miss- 
ing, but  when  we  came  to  examine  we  found  it  all  right  Now 
I  knew  that  Mark  was  having  some  sort  of  dealings  with  that 
man  Hamilton,  and  I  began  to  distrust  him.  So  I  did  what 
Mr.  Harvey  would  not  have  consented  to  do.  I  marked 
some  notes.  Mind  you,  I  laid  no  bait  for  Mark,  I  don' t 
believe  in  that,  but  I  simply  marked  money  that  was  placed 
where  it  was  always  kept,  and  where  Mark  had  access  to  it 
Then  I  was  called  out-  of  town,  and  when  I  returned  I 
counted  this  money  and  it  was  apparently  all  right" 

"What  on  earth  is  all  this  leading  to?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Palmer  impatiently.  ' '  You  don' t  seem  to  have  lost  a  cent, 
though  you  are  casting  slurs  upon  my  nephew. ' ' 

"Wait  a  bit  The  notes  were  all  there,"  said  Mr.  Blake  ; 
"  but  when  I  examined  there  was  a  counterfeit  among  them, 
and  the  marked  one  was  gone.  I  tried  the  same  thing 
again,  and  again  the  marked  note  was  gone,  but  a  good  one 
was  in  its  place.  The  thing  puzzled  me,  and  I  set  on  a 
detective  to  hunt  up  those  two  marked  notes  ;  but  that  very 
day  one  of  them  was  paid  to  me  by  Harry  Neal.  When  I 
questioned  him  he  said  that  he  had  received  it  from  Mark, 
and  he  also  told  me  that  Mark  had  paid  him  a  counterfeit. 
We  kept  it  quiet,  but  we  took  care  that  Mark  no  longer  had 
access  to  money.  Then  he  began  to  fish  about  to  find  out 
if  we  had  received  any  counterfeit  money,  but  we  would 
not  own  that  we  had." 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ? ' '  exclaimed  Mr.  Palmer  again, 
this  time  angrily. 

"Simply  this,  that  I  believe  Mark  had  been  borrowing 
of  us  and  repaying  us  as  it  suited  himself,  in  bad  or  good 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  317 

money.  Then  he  grew  scared  about  this  gang  being  found 
out,  and  wanted  to  get  the  bad  notes  back.  Mind,  I  don' t  say 
that  the  young  man  meant  to  steal,  but  when  a  man  begins 
to  borrow  without  asking  permission,  he  is  getting  into  a 
habit  that  doesn'  t  fit  with  my  ideas  of  a  reliable  fellow  to 
have  about  Mr.  Harvey  and  I  talked  over  the  matter  and 
decided  to  let  him  drop.  Now  we  have  those  two  counter- 
feit notes,  and  of  course  we  don' t  care  to  make  things  un- 
pleasant for  you  and  for  Mr.  Willoughby.  But  I  think  that 
it  is  high  time  that  you  and  he  knew  about  these  goings  on, 
and  kept  an  eye  on  the  young  man." 

"Give  me  the  notes  and  I'll  give  you  good  ones,"  said 
Mr.  Palmer  hoarsely.  v ' '  Only  for  heaven' s  sake  continue 
to  hold  your  tongue  about  the  whole  business."  The  faint 
sound  of  a  closing  door  made  him  start  up.  Again  he  drew 
the  heavy  curtain  and  looked  into  the  drawing  room,  but  it 
was  empty  as  before,  and  he  returned  to  his  chair  with  a 
muttered  exclamation  about  eavesdropping  servants. 

"Well,"  replied  Mr.  Blake,  "I  can't  do  anything  until 
I  consult  Mr.  Harvey.  But  I  did  not  intend  to  talk  except 
to  you  or  to  Mr.  Willoughby.  Mark  is  married  now,  and 
he  may  reform;  still  I  think  that  one  of  you  had  better  give 
him  a  hint  that  the  matter  is  not  all  unnoticed  as  he  seemed 
to  think.  Now  as  you  have  heard  all  that  I  came  to  say,  I 
won' t  wait  for  Mr.  Willoughby.  You  understand  the  whole 
business,  and  you  have  your  eyes  open,  so  you  can't  say 
that  you  are  trusting  him  in  the  dark,  if  you  should  choose 
to  go  on  trusting  him.  My  advice  is,  keep  a  sharp  eye  on 
him.  Hamilton  is  a  bad  companion  for  any  man."  With 
these  words  Mr.  Blake  got  up  and  took  his  hat. 

"Wait  a  moment;  I  am  going  too,"  said  Mr.  Palmer. 
"  I  must  think  about  this.  I  don't  just  care  to  meet  Wil- 
loughby at  once.  I  shall  see  Mark  himself  first" 


3l8  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"That's  a  good  move,"  said  Mr.  Blake  approvingly. 
"  Make  him  understand  that  a  man  must  have  some  prin- 
ciple in  business.  That's  where  I  feel  safe  with  old  Harvey. 
He  hasn'  t  the  '  go  '  of  many  a  younger  man,  but  he' s  honest 
and  high  principled  to  the  core.  That' s  the  sort  of  religion 
worth  having." 

Mr.  Palmer  suddenly  recalled  his  own  words  of  sneering 
at  religion  in  business  when  Mr.  Brant  and  Mr.  Marshall 
had  come  to  see  him,  and  a  very  uncomfortable  feeling  of 
doubt  assailed  him  as  to  whether  his  own  judgment  was  as 
infallible  as  he  had  always  hitherto  supposed.  He  said 
good-bye  to  Mr.  Blake,  and  turned  in  the  direction  of  his 
own  office.  When  he  reached  it  he  was  met  by  a  telegraph 
boy  with  a  message.  It  was  from  Doctor  Scott,  and  read: 

"Hamilton  died  last  night" 

He  thought  a  moment,  and  then  calling  a  messenger  boy, 
sent  the  telegram  sealed  up  in  one  of  his  business  envelopes 
to  Mr.  Erskine. 

"That  will  ease  his  mind.  If  I  can  be  sure  that  Harvey 
&  Blake  will  hold  their  tongues  maybe  there  will  be  no 
scandal  after  all,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "I  wish  I 
could  get  hold  of  Mark  and  find  out  about  those  papers." 

He  could  only  find  Mark  by  going  to  the  Carlton  House, 
and  that  he  did  not  care  to  do  ;  so  he  sat  down  to  his  usual 
work  in  a  very  restless  and  disturbed  state  of  mind. 

He  had  only  begun  his  work  when  the  sound  of  a  well- 
known  voice  in  the  next  room  caused  him  to  start,  and  then 
the  door  opened  and  Mark  himself  entered  with  a  cheerful, 
careless  air  that  rasped  upon  his  uncle's  irritated  nerves. 

' '  I  say,  Uncle  Palmer,  it' s  a  shame  to  let  you  slave  away 
like  this.  Give  me  work  to  do  and  I'  11  set  about  it  to-mor- 
row," he  exclaimed. 

"Come,   come,   young  man,  not  so  fast,"  returned  his 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  319 

uncle  grimly.  "Wait  till  you  know  whether  you  are 
wanted. ' ' 

Mark  stared,  but  he  soon  smiled  and  said  good-humor- 
edly: 

1  •  Now,  uncle,  you  are  not  going  to  come  down  on  me  too 
hard  for  a  harmless  little  white  fib.  I  knew  that  Hamilton 
was  a  rascal  and  I  didn't  want  to  have  anything  more  to  do 
with  him.  So  what  was  the  harm  of  denying  his  acquaint- 
ance ?  Of  course  if  I  had  known  that  he  meant  any  harm 
to  Mort,  I  would  have  seen  him  farther  before  I  would  have 
allowed  it ;  and  you  know  I  set  it  all  straight  just  as  soon  as 
I  learned  what  was  going  on." 

The  easy,  careless  tone  of  good-humored  expostulation 
chafed  Mr.  Palmer,  and  therefore  he  began  and  in  no 
measured  terms  related  to  Mark  all  that  he  had  learned 
from  Hamilton  and  from  Mr.  Blake. 

"  Now,"  he  wound  up,  "it  is  plain  that  this  man  goes  by 
two  names,  and  he  is  really  the  counterfeiter  Graves  for 
whom  the  secret  service  men  have  been  hunting ;  and  you 
can  see  that  it  is  no  light  matter  to  have  your  name  mixed 
up  with  his  and  letters  of  yours,  telling  I  don't  know  what, 
found  among  his  effects." 

Mark' s  face  had  changed  under  his  uncle' s  cutting  words  ; 
and  he  sat  frowning  and  wrathful,  biting  his  lips  under  his 
moustache. 

"You  are  very  ready  to  believe  the  worst  of  me,"  he  said 
bitterly;  "and  you  would  take  against  me  the  word  of  a 
man  like  Hamilton,  or  Graves,  or  whatever  his  name  may 
be.  Now  I  can  tell  you  that  the  detectives  won' t  find  a  line 
of  mine  among  his  effects.  As  for  Harvey  &  Blake, 
Harvey  is  getting  into  his  dotage  and  doesn't  know  exactly 
what  he  does,  and  Blake  thinks  himself  the  brightest  man 
that  ever  drove  a  pen  or  signed  a  check  ;  and  he  is  vastly 


32O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

mistaken  as  I'  11  soon  let  him  know  when  I  get  a  chance  to 
say  a  word  to  him." 

' '  Well,  if  you  can  hush  the  matter  up,  you  would  better 
do  it,"  said  his  uncle  in  a  quieter  tone. 

"And  you  don't  want  me  in  here  to-morrow;  so  I  sup- 
pose I  would  better  hunt  up  other  work,"  continued  Mark 
in  the  same  proud  tone. 

"Oh,  no,  I  didn't  say  that,"  replied  Mr.  Palmer  hesi- 
tatingly. ' '  But  of  course  you  can  see  how  unpleasant  all 
this  is  for  me  ;  and,"  he  added,  his  irritation  growing  again, 
' '  I  can' t  see  how  you  could  have  been  such  a  fool ! ' ' 

"There's  no  need  to  call  any  names,"  said  Mark  haugh- 
tily, and  he  turned  and  stalked  out  of  the  office. 

"The  old  gentleman  was  right  after  all,"  muttered  Mr. 
Palmer  angrily.  "I'll  be  hanged  if  Winstead' s  religion 
isn't  worth  more  than  Mark's  huffiness,  and  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  ship  him  oft  and  get  Mortimer  back." 

Mark  meanwhile  was  hurrying  along  the  street,  wrath- 
fully  telling  himself  that  he  had  got  among  a  lot  of  idiots, 
and  that  he  would  better  have  stuck  to  old  Harvey,  who  was 
at  least  a  good-hearted  idiot 

He  reached  the  hotel  and  went  straight  to  the  private 
parlor  where  he  expected  to  find  Juliet  Instead  he  found 
only  Mrs.  Erskine  in  a  state  of  great  perplexity  and  distress. 

"Juliet  came  home  from  a  call  upon  your  sister  and  shut 
herself  up  in  her  room,"  she  said.  "  I  can' t  make  out  what 
is  wrong,  but  she  wants  to  go  home  at  once." 

"  I'll  go  and  talk  to  her,"  said  Mark,  but  he  returned  in 
a  few  minutes  and,  angrily  seizing  his  hat,  flung  out  of  the 
room  muttering,  "It  is  some  foolery  of  Kate's,  and  I'll 
have  it  out  with  her."  He  swung  along  looking  neither  to 
right  nor  left  until  he  reached  his  father's  house,  and  there 
he  marched  straight  upstairs  to  his  sister' s  sitting  room. 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  321 

"What  did  you  say  to  Juliet  this  morning?"  he  de- 
manded as  he  stood  before  her  stern  and  lowering.  • '  Come, 
I'  11  have  no  nonsense.  Your  wretched  pride  has  set  you  on 
to  make  trouble  between  us." 

"  I  ?"  exclaimed  Kate,  amazed  and  alarmed.  "  Indeed, 
Mark,  I  have  tried  to  be  as  pleasant  as  I  could.  What  can 
you  mean  ? ' ' 

1 '  Oh,  I  know  what  you  women  can  be, ' '  sneered  Mark. 
"  Here  is  Juliet,  who  has  done  more  to  help  me  along  than 
you  ever  did — and  you  can' t  be  content  until  you  have  set 
her  wild  over  some  rigmarole.  What  did  you  say  to  her 
this  morning  ? ' ' 

"  Not  one  word,"  replied  Kate  spiritedly.  "  I  had  to  go 
out,  and  I  left  word  that  if  she  happened  to  call  she  was  to 
be  told  that  I  would  be  in  very  soon.  She  did  come  about 
noon,  and  Jane  showed  her  into  the  drawing  room,  as  she 
said  that  she  would  wait  for  me.  But  when  I  came  in  soon 
after  twelve,  she  was  gone." 

"  Well,  then,  it  has  been  father  who  has  made  mischief," 
exclaimed  Mark  doggedly,  turn  ing  away  as  if  to  go  in  search 
of  his  father. 

"Stop,"  cried  Kate  anxiously,  fearful  lest  there  should 
be  more  trouble  between  her  father  and  brother.  « '  Papa 
could  not  have  said  anything,  for  he  was  out  He  came  in 
after  me.  I  am  sure  of  it ;  for  Jane  told  me  that  both 
Uncle  Palmer  and  Mr.  Blake  came  to  see  papa  and  waited 
for  him  a  good  while  in  the  library  ;  but  they  went  away 
before  he  came  in.  What  is  the  matter?"  she  exclaimed 
quickly  as  she  caught  sight  of  her  brother's  face  which  had 
turned  very  pale. 

' '  Between  you  all,  I  shall  be  made  as  bad  as  you  want 
me  to  be,"  he  said  fiercely.  "You  could  all  preach  and 
preach  at  me,  but  Juliet  was  the  only  one  who  had  the  pluck 

v 


322  THE    MERR1VALE   WILL 

and  the  wit  to  help  me  out  of  a  scrape  ;  and  now  they  have 
let  their  wretched  tongues  wag  in  her  hearing  ;  and  she  is 
thinking — I  don' t  know  what — about  me.  I  can' t  stay  to 
talk.  There  has  been  too  much  talk  already."  With  these 
words  savagely  flung  at  her,  he  banged  out  of  the  room  and 
went  downstairs  and  into  the  street,  while  Kate  sat  indig- 
nant, but  trembling  with  a  vague  fear. 

She  had  achieved  a  great  victory  over  her  own  personal 
feelings  when  she  went  to  call  on  her  brother' s  wife.  Her 
indisposition,  which  had  been  her  excuse  for  not  going  at 
once,  was  really  the  result  of  her  intense  disappointment 
and  aversion  to  the  task  of  making  any  friendly  advances, 
and  it  was  all  the  more  bitter  to  be  thus  unjustly  accused  by 
Mark  when  she  had  really,  as  she  felt,  sacrificed  her  own 
inclinations  entirely  to  his  comfort  and  welfare.  While 
these  feelings  were  uppermost  she  could  rest  proudly  in  the 
consciousness  that  she  had  done  all  and  more  than  he  had 
a  right  to  expect ;  but  there  would  arise  the  true,  deep,  sis- 
terly love  for  her  only  brother  ;  and  the  fear  assailed  her 
that  something  might  have  occurred  which  would  turn  the 
young  girl  whom  she  looked  upon  as  very  undisciplined  and 
childish,  into  a  nagging,  fault-finding  wife,  and  perhaps 
cause  a  most  unhappy  breach  between  the  newly  wedded 
pair. 

"If  his  wife  is  estranged  from  him,  and  he  is  estranged 
from  me,  who  is  there  to  exercise  any  good  influence  over 
him  ? ' '  she  thought  ' '  He  will  be  utterly  without  restraint. 
But  I  cannot  find  him  and  I  can  do  nothing." 

Even  while  she  told  herself  this  she  felt  rather  than  actu- 
ally thought,  that  she  could  find  Juliet,  and  a  few  words 
with  her  might  smooth  out  the  misunderstanding,  whatever 
it  was.  It  was  however  too  hard  for  her.  To  accept  the 
inevitable  and  try  to  be  quietly  courteous  was  one  thing  ;  to 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  323 

have  to  act  the  part  of  mediator  between  her  brother  and 
this  young  girl  was  quite  another. 

"I  can't  stay  here  and  think,"  she  exclaimed  aloud. 
"  I  am  going  to  see  Miss  Clive  ;  I  want  to  know  how  Bertha 
is  getting  on." 

The  brisk  walk  did  her  good  and  when  she  reached  Miss 
Halsey's,  Miss  Clive  herself  opened  the  door  to  her.  The 
little  lady  received  her  warmly  and  they  were  soon  in  inter- 
ested conversation.  Bertha  was  not  very  seriously  ill ;  Helen 
had  passed  through  a  severe  crisis,  and  was  slowly  improv- 
ing. 

"  Mrs.  Brant  has  been  the  greatest  assistance,"  said  Miss 
Clive.  "  I  would  gladly  have  offered  my  help,  but  I  know 
that  I  am  only  an  additional  care  in  a  sick-room,  for  I  am 
not  strong  enough  to  be  of  use." 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  said  Kate,  "that  the  person  whom 
Bertha  disliked  so  much  should  be  the  one  to  be  such  a 
help  to  her  mother,  and  to  take  such  kind  care  of  herself." 

"It  only  shows  what  I  am  learning  more  clearly  every 
day  of  my  life,"  said  Miss  Clive,  "that  we  must  trust  all  our 
affairs  in  the  hands  of  God.  He  alone  can  judge  and  rule 
rightly;  and  if  we  pull  and  strain  to  gratify  our  own  whims, 
or  to  get  our  own  desires,  we  may  be  just  sliding  over  the 
precipice  where  his  hand  wonld  have  guided  us  safely 
along  a  perilous  path." 

"I  cannot  understand  that,"  said  Kate  in  a  low  voice. 
' '  What  can  one  do  but  try  to  do  one' s  best  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  no,"  exclaimed  her  friend  warmly.  "Our  own 
best  is  so  very  poor  that  it  would  be  absolutely  dishearten- 
ing to  be  left  with  no  other  guidance." 

"  I  cannot  see  any  guide,"  persisted  Kate;  but  there  was 
a  hopeless,  distressed  tone  in  her  voice  that  made  Miss 
Clive' s  heart  ache. 


324  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"Ask  for  the  guide,  and  ask  for  the  sight  to  enable  you 
to  see  his  hand,  which  is  always  extended  to  help,"  she 
urged  earnestly. 

"You  mean  that  I  should  pray,"  said  Kate.  "  I  do 
that  every  day,  but  I  cannot  find  that  it  helps  me." 

"So  did  I  at  one  time,  my  dear;  but  I  prayed  with  a 
very  firm  determination  in  my  own  mind  as  to  what  I  could 
and  what  I  could  not  do.  When  at  last  I  began  to  pray 
for  guidance,  feeling  that  whatever  the  Lord  had  for  me  to 
do,  that  I  could  and  would  do  even  if  it  went  contrary  to 
all  that  I  had  wished  or  expected,  the  result  was  very 
different." 

' '  Everybody  cannot  be  like  you, ' '  said  Kate  sadly. 

"There  is  the  same  loving  Lord  watching  over  us  all," 
said  the  little  lady  earnestly.  ' '  What  matters  it  whether 
we  are  alike  or  different,  if  we  are  all  clinging  to  his  hand 
and  following  where  he  leads  us  ? " 

Kate  made  no  reply ;  but  it  was  a  very  affectionate  ' '  good- 
bye ' '  that  she  said  as  she  went  away,  and  that  night  a  hard 
battle  was  fought  in  Kate' s  heart 

At  breakfast  Mr.  Willoughby  remarked  : 

"Mark  came  to  me  for  money  yesterday.  What  has 
happened  ?  He  looked  very  glum.  Has  he  squabbled 
already  with  that  girl  ? ' ' 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  am  sure  that  he  loves  her,  and  she  is  very 
fond  of  him,"  replied  Kate  quickly;  and  then  and  there 
she  fixed  the  resolution  that  had  been  wavering  in  her 
mind.  Directly  after  breakfast  was  over  she  dressed  and 
went  out  to  the  Carlton  House.  Dreading  a  repulse,  she 
told  the  bell  boy  that  she  would  go  up  at  once  to  Mrs. 
Erskine'  s  private  parlor. 

"Mrs.  Erskine  is  in  bed  with  a  bad  headache,"  said 
the  boy;  "but  Mrs.  Willoughby  is  at  home." 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  325 

So  Kate  went  up.  She  tapped  at  the  door,  feeling  that  the 
way  was  being  smoothed  before  her;  but  when  Juliet  herself 
opened  it  she  saw  with  intense  disappointment  that  there 
was  somebody  else  in  the  room.  It  was  an  elderly  man, 
respectably  dressed,  but  with  weather-beaten  face  and  toil- 
hardened  hands,  that  showed  he  had  worked  hard  for  the 
greater  part  of  his  life. 

"Come  in,"  said  Juliet,  with  slight  embarrassment  in 
her  tone.  "This  is  Mr.  Clark,  from  Harleytown,  Miss 
Willoughby.  He  came  in  this  morning  to  tell  me  about 
his  daughter  who  has  just  been  left  a  widow,  and  he  has 
also  news  about  people  whom  you  know  better  than  I  do. 
It  has  to  do  with  the  Winsteads  and  the  Brants.  Did  you 
know,  Kate,  that  Mrs.  Brant  is  Mrs.  Winstead's  cousin?" 

' '  Oh,  you  have  got  it  wrong, ' '  replied  Kate.  ' '  I  heard  all 
about  it  from  Mrs.  Davenant.  Mr.  Brant  is  her  half- 
brother.  She  and  Mr.  Davenant  are  very  much  pleased  at 
the  discovery,  and  have  been  making  arrangements  that 
will  put  him  in  very  comfortable  circumstances  for  the  rest 
of  his  life." 

"  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  that,  miss,"  said  the  man, 
twisting  his  hat  in  his  hands.  "It's  only  Mrs.  Brant  as  I 
know  about,  her  as  was  a  Merrivale.  Her  father  was  Felix 
Merrivale  and  he  come  West,  and  though  him  and  me  was 
pardners  and  come  through  a  good  many  rough  times  to- 
gether, I  never  knew  nothin'  about  his  family;  but  after  he  was 
killed  and  I  married  I  moved  about  a  good  bit,  and  only 
heard  of  his  widow  off  and  on,  as  you  might  say.  Then 
my  daughter  Betsy,  she  fell  in  with  a  man  who  came  out 
prospectin',  so  he  said.  Her  mother  and  me  we  didn't 
like  him,  but  Betsy  was  sot  on  him,  and  nothin'  would 
do  but  she  would  marry  him,  and  he  took  her  East  and  we 
heard  nothin'  much  of  her. 


326  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"Then  Graves  came  out  West  again  and  he  hunted  me 
up.  His  name  was  Robert  Hamilton  Graves.  Well,  he 
began  to  talk  to  me  about  Felix  Merrivale  and  some  money 
that  he  ought  to  have  had  and  his  daughter  might  get  if 
the  marriage  was  proved.  I  knew  all  about  the  marriage, 
for  Felix  and  me  was  thick  friends  at  that  time,  but  I  didn'  t 
believe  much  that  Graves  had  to  say,  and  I  didn't  know 
rightly  where  the  daughter  was.  Graves,  he  wanted  me  to 
come  East  with  him.  He  said  Betsy  was  pinin'  for  some 
of  her  folks,  and  her  babies  was  all  dead.  My  wife  was 
dead  and  I  was  gettin'  on  in  years,  so  I  just  up  and  come 
with  him,  and  we'  ve  been  livin'  round  these  parts  for  some 
time. ' ' 

' '  How  was  it  that  you  never  told  any  one  about  this 
before  ? ' '  asked  Kate,  who  was  now  thoroughly  interested. 

' '  Well,  you  see, ' '  replied  the  old  man,  '  •  I  didn' t  know 
nothin'  about  the  folks,  and  then  Graves,  he  said  as  I  must 
hold  my  tongue  till  he  gave  me  leave  to  speak;  and  Graves 
wasn'  t  good  to  Betsy  when  he  got  riled,  so  for  Betsy' s  sake 
I  made  shift  to  keep  along  on  his  right  side  and  as  quiet  as 
possible.  But  he  died  night  before  last,  and  Betsy  she 
come  straight  to  me,  and  she  says,  says  she,  '  Just  you  go 
to  Miss  Erskine  and  tell  her  my  man' s  dead  and  I'  m  ready 
to  do  anything  she  has  for  me  to  do.'  ' 

"  Did  her  husband  leave  her  nothing?"  asked  Kate. 

• '  Oh,  he  was  a  bad  lot,  and  the  detectives,  they  come  in 
and  seized  everything  while  he  was  away,  and  Betsy  was 
off  nursing  him.  Betsy  had  left  the  key  of  their  room 
with  me,  and  the  men  had  me  up  too;  but  they  let  me  off, 
only  bidding  me  be  around  to  tell  what  they  wanted  to 
know  when  they  would  call  for  me.  They  was  askin' 
about  a  young  man,  whether  I  had  ever  seen  a  young  fel- 
low, tall  and  straight,  with  brown  hair  and  mustache  and  a 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  327 

pleasant,  easy  way  with  him,  a  swell  from  what  they  said. 
I  hadn'  t,  for  all  the  men  that  had  come  to  see  Graves — and 
I  lived  in  a  room  just  opposite  and  could  see  easy  enough 
— was  seedy-looking  rogues." 

Kate  and  Juliet  involuntarily  exchanged  glances,  then 
Juliet's  eyes  fell,  and  she  said  hastily: 

"Would  it  not  be  well  for  this  information  about  Mrs. 
Brant  to  be  written  down,  or  ought  we  to  send  word  to 
Mrs.  Winstead  ?" 

"  Mr.  Lindsay  ought  to  be  told,"  replied  Kate  promptly. 
"He  is  the  lawyer  who  has  always  attended  to  the  Merri- 
vale  affairs.  Do  you  know  where  Cedar  Street  is  ? "  she 
inquired,  turning  to  the  old  man. 

"I  don't  know  much  about  Harriton,"  he  replied.  "  I 
guess  though  I  could  ask." 

Kate  shook  her  head  doubtfully,  and  ai  that  moment  the 
door  opened  and  Mr.  Erskine  entered. 

' '  Father  can  manage  it, ' '  exclaimed  Juliet,  and  she  at 
once  explained  to  her  father  the  story  that  the  man  had 
related,  and  asked  him  how  he  could  get  to  Mr.  Lindsay. 

It  happened  that  Mr.  Erskine  had  an  appointment  with 
Mr.  Lindsay  that  morning;  and  he  offered  to  take  John 
Clark  to  the  lawyer's  office.  Juliet  caught  at  the  sugges- 
tion, and  both  girls  drew  a  breath  of  relief  when  the  door 
closed  behind  Mr.  Erskine  and  John  Clark  and  they  found 
themselves  alone. 

' '  What  does  all  this  mean  ? ' '  asked  Kate  anxiously. 
"  Do  you  know  whom  the  man  referred  to  when  he  spoke 
about  that  young  man  in  connection  with  Hamilton,  or 
Graves,  as  he  called  him  ?" 

"He  was  talking  about  Mark,"  replied  Juliet  in  alow 
tone.  "I  know  all  about  it.  Hamilton  had  fooled  Mark 
with  counterfeit  money,  and  Mark  had  passed  some  of  it 


328  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

without  knowing  what  it  was.  That  was  what  worried 
Mark  so  badly  of  late. ' ' 

"How  did  you  learn  this?  I  knew  nothing  of  it,"  said 
Kate  in  distress. 

"I  was  engaged  to  Mark,"  replied  Juliet  simply,  "and 
of  course  he  could  not  be  in  trouble  and  I  not  notice  it.  It 
wasn'  t  an  out-and-out  engagement,  for  father  didn'  t  like  it 
He  didn' t  think  Mark  was  steady.  But  it  was  all  the  same 
to  me,  and  I  gave  Mark  no  peace  till  he  let  me  know  what 
was  the  matter.  I  saw  Hamilton  come  up  to  speak  to  Mark 
in  the  street  one  day  after  he  had  put  me  on  the  street  car, 
and  I  knew  that  it  was  Betsy  Graves'  husband.  If  it  had 
been  any  one  else  I  could  not  have  done  a  thing  ;  but  I 
knew  that  Betsy  was  my  friend.  So  I  made  Mark  tell  me 
about  the  letters  that  he  had  written  to  this  man  asking  him 
for  money,  and  I  determined  to  get  them  back.  I  gave 
Mark  five  hundred  dollars  that  father  gave  me  to  get  new 
clothes,  and  helped  Mark  to  get  back  some  of  the  counter- 
feit money  ;  and  then  I  went  to  Harleytown  and  got  the 
letters  from  Betsy." 

' '  Is  that  what  has  made  the  trouble  now  ? ' '  asked  Kate, 
her  face  growing  paler  as  she  listened  to  this  account. 

"What  trouble  ?"   asked  Juliet  unsteadily. 

' '  Mark  came  to  me  very  angry,  because  he  thought  that 
I  had  done  or  said  something  to  annoy  you,"  replied  Kate. 
"But  you  know  that  you  did  not  wait  to  see  me  yesterday, 
so  I  knew  that  it  must  be  something  else  that  was  making 
trouble,  and  I  came  this  morning  to  ask  you  to  tell  me 
what  it  is.  I  will  gladly  set  it  right  if  I  can." 

She  spoke  very  kindly  and  earnestly,  but  Juliet  only 
started  up,  crying  distractedly  : 

"Oh,  no  !  I  can't  tell  you  anything.  It  can't  be  helped. 
I  only  want  to  get  away  home  out  of  everybody' s  sight. ' ' 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  329 

"But  we  cannot  spare  you  or  Mark,"  said  Kate  gently  ; 
"and  you  surely  would  not  go  without  him." 

' '  I  can' t  see  him  again  ! ' '  cried  Juliet  ' '  Don' t  ask 
me  any  more.  Ask  your  uncle — he  knows — he  heard  all." 

All  Kate' s  persuasions  could  draw  no  more  out  of  her  ; 
and  Kate  was  forced  to  leave  in  perplexed  ignorance  as  to 
the  real  cause  of  the  trouble.  But  she  was  convinced  that 
it  was  no  mere  whim  on  Juliet's  part,  as  she  had  at  first  sup- 
posed. The  girl's  grief  was  too  real  and  too  deep.  She 
went  straight  to  her  uncle's  office  to  question  him.  Mr. 
Palmer  answered  evasively  ;  but  at  last,  finding  that  she 
knew  about  the  connection  with  Graves,  he  said  : 

"The  fact  is  that  Mark  has  got  into  a  bad  scrape.  He 
paid  a  bad  note  to  Harry  Neal,  and  Harry  took  it  to  Mr. 
Blake.  Mark  tried  to  get  the  note  back  from  Harry  with- 
out actually  telling  him  that  it  was  bad  ;  but  Harry  only 
said  that  he  had  paid  it  out,  and  never  gave  any  intimation 
that  he  had  found  it  was  bad.  For  Harry  didn't  know 
quite  how  to  take  Mark,  whether  to  distrust  him  or  not" 

"He  used  to  be  very  friendly  with  Mark,"  said  poor 
Kate  sadly. 

"Yes,  and  I  believe  he  would  have  been  so  still,  but  he 
learned  that  Mark  sent  me  the  word  that  made  me  hurry 
to  draw  on  their  firm  when  they  were  in  a  tight  place,  and 
that  turned  Harry  dead  against  Mark,  and  he  has  told  the 
whole  story  of  the  counterfeit  bill.  It  is  no  use  to  try  to 
hide  it  now." 

Kate  grew  very  white,  but  she  rallied  bravely  and  ex- 
claimed indignantly  : 

"  It  will  only  show  that  Mark  was  deceived  by  that  bad 
man.  But  this  is  not  what  is  troubling  Mark's  wife.  It 
must  have  been  something  that  she  heard  at  our  house 
yesterday." 


33O  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"When  was  she  there  ?"   asked  Mr.  Palmer  uneasily. 

' '  She  came  about  noon  and  waited  a  little  while  for  me, 
but  left  before  I  came  home, ' '  replied  Kate.  ' '  What  did 
you  tell  her  ? ' ' 

Mr.  Palmer  drew  in  his  lips  with  an  almost  inaudible 
whistle. 

"I  did  not  see  her  at  all,"  he  said  hastily.  "There, 
never  mind.  It  is  only  a  tiff  ;  leave  them  to  settle  it  them- 
selves. ' ' 

But  Kate  was  not  to  be  thus  put  off,  and  at  last  he  was 
obliged  to  tell  her  the  whole  story  that  he  had  heard  from 
Mr.  Blake.  She  looked  so  stricken  that  her  uncle  heartily 
wished  that  he  had  taken  her  home  before  he  was  led  into 
the  conversation. 

"Mark — Mark  take  money  that  did  not  belong  to 
him!"  she  moaned.  "Oh,  it  can't  be,  it  can't  be!" 

"Come,  my  dear,  don't  take  it  too  harshly,"  he  said. 
"You  know  he  repaid  it  all  ;  and  I  don't  believe  that  he 
had  any  idea  the  notes  were  bad." 

Kate  only  shook  her  head.  She  felt  that  all  Juliet's 
strange  conduct  was  fully  explained.  But  this  knowledge 
only  showed  her  all  the  more  plainly  what  a  dangerous 
breach  might  have  come  between  the  young  husband  and 
wife.  Putting  aside  her  uncle' s  kindly  offer  to  walk  home 
with  her,  she  hastily  left  the  office  ;  but  once  in  the  street, 
she  had  to  pause  a  moment  to  gather  up  her  resolution. 
Then  she  hurried  with  steady  steps  to  the  Carlton  House. 

Juliet  was  still  in  her  room  when  the  message  was  brought 
to  her  that  Miss  Willoughby  wished  to  see  her.  She  held 
in  her  hand  the  package  of  letters  that  she  had  gotten  from 
Betsy  Graves,  and  she  was  loosening  the  string  with  the 
intention  of  throwing  them  on  the  fire  that  burned  cheerily 
in  the  open  grate.  For  a  moment  she  hesitated,  half 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  331 

inclined  to  send  down  word  that  she  was  engaged  ;  but 
changing  her  mind,  she  laid  down  the  papers  and  bade  the 
boy  show  Miss  Willoughby  to  her  room.  When  Kate 
entered,  Juliet  saw  at  the  first  glance  that  Kate  had  learned 
all  that  there  was  to  learn,  and  she  greeted  her  with  erect 
head  and  defiant  air  that  sent  the  blood  tingling  to  Kate' s 
cheeks.  For  one  brief  moment  love  and  pride  battled 
within  Kate's  breast  Then  she  said  very  gently  and  wist- 
fully : 

"  I  have  been  to  Uncle  Palmer  and  I  have  heard  all. 
But  now  I  come  to  you.  Surely  his  wife  and  his  sister  can 
fight  against  the  evil  tendencies  and  temptations  that  are 
threatening  to  ruin  him  ;  and  with  God' s  help  we  shall  save 
him.  For,  oh,  Juliet,  he  is  not  willfully  bad  ;  don' t  believe 
that  of  him  !  I  have  known  him  all  our  lives,  and  I 
know  that  he  is  weak  at  times  ;  but  he  has  not  Mortimer 
Winstead'  s  religion  to  guard  him,  and  young  men  have  so 
many  temptations.  He  loves  you  so  deeply,  Juliet,  that 
you  can  influence  him.  He  said  to  me  yesterday  that  you 
had  done  more  for  him  than  I  had  ever  done." 

"Well,  I  think  I  have  done  a  good  deal  for  him,"  inter- 
rupted Juliet  proudly.  "  See,  here  are  the  letters  that  I  got 
for  him  from  Betsy  Graves,  because  he  was  afraid  that 
Graves  would  use  them  to  mix  up  his  name  with  that  coun- 
terfeiting gang." 

"May  I  look  at  them  ?"   asked  Kate  eagerly. 

"Yes  ;  I  guess  he  would  not  mind,"  replied  Juliet  care- 
lessly. "  I  was  just  going  to  burn  them  to  keep  them  out 
of  anybody' s  hands  who  might  use  them  to  do  him  harm  ; 
for  I  don't  want  to  hurt  him,  though  I  don't  expect  ever  to 
see  him  again,"  and  she  turned  away  to  hide  a  quiver  of 
her  lips  and  a  sudden  mist  of  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Kate  took  up  the  package  and  read  over  the  contents. 


332  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

There  were  several  letters  saying  that  parties  whose  names 
she  did  not  know  were  eager  for  the  promised  dividends, 
and  telling  Hamilton  that  he  would  better  send  on  what  he' 
had,  or  they  would  grow  troublesome.  The  wording  of  the 
letters  was  such  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  whether  the 
writer  knew  that  the  money  for  which  he  asked  was  coun- 
terfeit. They  might  easily  have  been  believed  to  be  letters 
of  an  accomplice,  but  at  the  bottom  of  the  package  was 
one  slightly  singed  that  Kate  read  with  some  difficulty.  It 
was  a  hot  and  indignant  protest  that  Hamilton  had  sent 
him  bad  money,  and  it  ended  with  the  words  : 

' '  Of  course  I  shall  redeem  all  that  I  can  get  hold  of,  and 
if  you  are  going  into  that  sort  of  a  game,  you  and  I  will 
part  company. ' '  . 

"Oh,  you  ought  not  to  burn  that  !"  cried  Kate  eagerly. 
' '  I  don' t  think  you  could  have  read  it  before  you  set  fire 
to  it." 

"I  did  not  set  fire  to  any  of  them,"  replied  Juliet. 
• '  Betsy  told  me  that  her  husband  had  burned  some  letters, 
and  this  one  he  was  just  holding  over  the  flames  when 
somebody  came  to  see  him  and  he  had  to  stop.  She  thinks 
that  the  man  was  Denville,  the  one  who  planned  all  their 
counterfeit  work  and  who  is  now  in  the  hands  of  the  police. 
At  all  events  her  husband  was  so  absorbed  by  the  news  this 
man  brought  him  that  he  went  out  without  giving  any 
thought  to  these  letters,  and  I  came  just  afterward  and  got 
them.  .  She  was  sorry  that  any  had  been  burned  when  she 
found  that  I  wanted  them.  But  Mark,  when  I  told  him, 
only  said,  '  All  right ;  what  he  has  burned  can  do  no  harm. ' 
That  was  what  put  it  into  my  head  to  burn  the  rest." 

"Keep  them  carefully,"  said  Kate,  shaking  her  head. 
"We  cannot  tell  what  use  they  may  serve.  Of  course,  it 
would  be  far  better  if  Mark's  name  could  be  kept  out  of 


MARK'S  ENTANGLEMENTS  333 

the  whole  business.  But  if  he  has  been  implicated,  as  I 
fear  is  the  case,  these  will  show  that  he  is  not  an  accom- 
•plice." 

Juliet  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  letter  that  Kate  had  been 
reading  ;  then  she  raised  her  head  and  said  with  an  evident 
effort,  "I  think  I  will  tell  you  something  that  happened 
to-day.  I  see  that  you  are  very  fond  of  Mark,  and  I  can 
trust  you." 

She  looked  at  her  wistfully,  and  Kate  felt  the  tears  filling 
her  eyes  as  she  realized  more  fully  how  much  true  affection 
this  girl,  whom  she  had  thought  frivolous  and  superficial, 
had  for  her  brother. 

"There  was  a  man  here  this  morning  inquiring  for 
Mark,"  continued  Juliet  "I  saw  him  as  I  was  in  the 
parlor  downstairs,  and  I  beckoned  to  the  bell  boy  and  told 
him  just  to  say  that  Mr.  Willoughby  was  out  The  man 
was  standing-  in  the  office  and  he  did  not  see  me,  but  I 
have  been  so  nervous  ever  since.  Yet  I  dared  not  tell  any- 
body, as  I  was  afraid  it  might  do  harm.  I  think  the  man 
was  a  detective. ' ' 

Kate  could  not  repress  a  nervous  start,  but  at  the  same 
moment  the  door  opened  and  Mark  himself  entered.  He 
paused  a  moment  in  surprise,  and  his  face  darkened  as  his 
eyes  fell  on  Kate,  but  he  said  hastily,  "Juliet,  have  you 
those  papers  you  got  from  Graves'  wife?  I  want  to  show 
them  to  a  man  jn  the  sitting  room." 

"You  were  right,  Kate,"  exclaimed  Juliet  "Here  they 
are,"  she  said,  holding  them  out  to  her  husband.  "I  am 
so  glad  that  Kate  advised  me  not  to  burn  them." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Mark.  "  It  would  have  put  me  in  a 
fix  if  they  had  been  burned."  But  he  was  evidently  more 
occupied  in  noticing  his  wife's  eager  and  friendly  mannei 
than  in  considering  the  papers. 


334  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

"  May  we  come  with  you  ?"  she  asked  urgently. 

He  quickly  drew  her  hand  through  his  arm  and,  with 
Kate  following,  they  went  down  to  the  private  sitting  room, 
where  they  found  Mr.  Palmer  and  a  stranger  awaiting 
them. 

The  papers  were  opened  and  examined  by  the  stranger, 
and  a  good  deal  of  low  conversation  passed  between  the  gen- 
tlemen. Then  the  stranger  turned  to  Juliet  and  remarked: 
"I  was  told  that  Betsy  Graves  was  seen  to  go  out  one 
stormy  night,  and  that  she  met  Mr.  Willoughby  at  the 
Harleytown  station.  Of  course,  when  we  failed  to  find 
papers  that  we  were  told  were  among  her  husband' s  effects 
we  supposed  that  she  had  carried  them  away." 

"It  was  not  Betsy,"  replied  Juliet,  who  seemed  to  have 
recovered  all  her  composure.  "Perhaps  your  informant 
was  misled  because  Betsy  lent  me  her  umbrella,  as  I  had 
none.  But  it  was  I  who  got  these  letters  from  Betsy  and 
took  them  to  Mr.  Willoughby.  But  they  have  been  in  my 
possession  ever  since,  for  he  only  looked  at  them  and  did 
not  take  them  from  me." 

Again  there  was  some  low  conversation  between  the  gen- 
tlemen. Then  the  stranger  remarked  aloud  : 

' '  Of  course,  this  puts  a  different  face  upon  the  matter  ; 
but  we  shall  look  upon  you,  Mr.  Willoughby,  as  an  im- 
portant witness  in  the  case." 

Mark  bit  his  lip  under  his  mustache,  but  he  simply  re- 
plied that  he  would  be  in  readiness  when  called  upon  ;  and 
the  stranger  rose  and,  bowing  to  the  ladies  with  a  brief 
apology  for  the  trouble  that  he  had  given  them,  went  out, 
followed  by  Mr.  Palmer. 

"You  must  thank  Kate,"  said  Juliet,  her  eyes  shining 
through  a  mist  of  tears,  as  she  laid  her  hand  on  Mark' s  arm 
and  with  the  other  caught  Kate' s  hand. 


MARKS    ENTANGLEMENTS  335 

But  Kate,  seeing  that  the  coldness  between  the  young 
husband  and  wife  had  passed  away,  was  now  anxious  to  be 
gone.  She  felt  that  her  presence  was  no  longer  needed  and 
now  began  to  feel  the  strain  under  which  she  had  been  all 
the  morning,  and  longed  to  get  home  and  be  alone.  With 
a  warm  pressure  of  thShand  to  her  brother  and  his  wife,  she 
hurried  out  of  the  room  and  hastened  homeward. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL 

THE  fickle  April  sun  was  shining  warmly  and  brightly 
into  the  deep-set  windows  of  Mrs.  Winstead's  bed- 
room at  Merrivale,  and  it  gleamed  on  the  wan  faces  of  two 
invalids  who  were  now  progressing  slowly  but  surely  on  the 
way  to  recovery. 

"Come,  dear,  drink  it  while  I  tell  you  about  the  big 
snowstorm  we  had  at  Silverbush,  when  my  boy  Felix  nearly 
got  lost,"  said  Mrs.  Brant  to  Helen  in  her  cheerful,  de- 
cided tones,  as  she  propped  the  child  more  comfortably  and 
held  a  glass  of  milk  to  her  lips. 

Helen  was  beginning  a  fretful  complaint;  but  the  promise 
of  a  story  changed  the  current  of  her  thoughts,  and.  she 
contentedly  settled  herself  to  listen.  The  plump,  rosy  child 
had  changed  to  a  thin-faced  little  damsel,  with  close- 
cropped  hair  and  almost  unnaturally  large  eyes,  while  a 
weary,  fretful  look,  quite  unlike  her  former  merry  smile, 
frequently  marred  her  face.  Bertha  marveled  at  the  altera- 
tion in  her  little  sister;  but  Mrs.  Brant  seemed  to  take  it 
all  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  skillfully  coaxed  and  amused 
the  child,  thus  procuring  for  the  tired  mother  an  hour  of 
much-needed  rest. 

Bertha  herself  was  still  weak,  but  her  illness  had  not 
told  upon  her  as  severely.  Still  she  was  greatly  changed. 
The  old  self-confident  look  was  gone,  and  in  its  place  was 
a  gentler  and  more  thoughtful  expression.  She  sat  watch- 
ing as  Mrs.  Brant  talked  brightly  to  Helen,  and  finally  per- 
336 


FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL  337 

suaded  the  child  to  lie  down  and  soothed  her  into  a  quiet 
sleep.  Then  as  she  rose  to  leave  the  room,  Bertha  rose 
too  and  followed  her. 

"Do  you  want  anything,  or  is  it  just  for  company's 
sake?"  asked  Mrs.  Brant  sympathetically. 

"  Let  me  do  something  useful/'  said  Bertha  with  a  little 
smile.  ' '  I  feel  so  lazy  and  useless. ' '  . 

' '  The  land' s  sake  !  child,  don' t  worry  your  head.  You'  11 
soon  be  as  spry  as  the  best  of  us,"  replied  Mrs.  Brant,  as 
she  energetically  attacked  a  bag  full  of  unmended  stock- 
ings. "Just  have  a  little  bit  more  patience." 

"You  have  plenty  of  that,"  replied  Bertha,  watching 
her  with  eyes  in  which  a  little  moisture  was  gathering. 

'  •  Whatever  put  that  in  your  head  ? ' '  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Brant  with  a  laugh.  ' '  That  ain'  t  one  of  my  virtues. 
Felix  he  says  that  I'm  never  content  unless  I  can  make 
things  hum;  and  I  guess  he  is  about  right  Now,  my  hus- 
band is  the  patientest  man  living.  I  can  admire  him,  but 
I  can't  come  up  to  him,"  she  ended,  with  a  whimsical 
little  shake  of  her  head,  and  ran  the  long  darning  needle 
vigorously  into  a  big  hole  in  the  heel  of  one  of  Jack's 
stockings. 

The  language  was  not  more  refined  and  correct  than 
Bertha  had  anticipated,  and  Mrs.  Brant  in  her  plain  house 
gown  was  neither  beautiful  nor  elegant,  although  she  was 
neat  enough ;  but  the  effect  upon  Bertha  was  widely  differ- 
ent from  what  that  young  lady  could  have  believed  possible 
a  few  short  months  before,  and  she  replied  most  heartily 
and  sincerely: 

' '  I  know  that  you  have  been  very  patient  and  kind  to 
me  during  my  illness;  and  I  wonder  how  you  can  be  so 
patient  with  Helen  now." 

"Oh,  poor  child,  it's  weakness  makes  her  fussy,"  re- 
w 


THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

plied  Mrs.  Brant.  ' '  There  ain'  t  a  sweeter-tempered  child 
going  when  she' s  well.  I  don"  t  make  any  account  of  a 
little  fractiousness  now.  Why,  bless  you,  it  just  shows  that 
she  is  getting  better."  And  again  she  laughed. 

' '  But  you  had  no  reason  like  that  for  being  so  kind  to 
me,"  said  Bertha,  her  face  flushing.  "Oh,  Cousin  Joanna, 
I  was  very  disagreeable  and  unjust  in  my  thoughts  of  you; 
and  that  was  what  took  me  away  to  Harriton,  and  was 
really  the  beginning  of  all  this  trouble  for  Mortimer." 

"There  now,  don't  say  another  word  about  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Brant  kindly. 

"  But  it  does  not  seem  right  to  make  you  think  me  better 
than  I  am,"  persisted  Bertha  remorsefully. 

She  was  trembling  a  little,  but  she  forced  herself  to  go 
on;  for  she  had  too  much  self-consciousness  not  to  have 
noticed  that  Mrs.  Brant  had  been  attracted  by  her  good 
looks  and  her  attractive  manners,  and  she  was  determined, 
as  the  first  step  in  her  new  desire  for  improvement,  to  try 
to  show  herself  just  as  unlovely  as  she  had  really  been. 
To  her  surprise  Mrs.  Brant  took  her  face  between  her  two 
hands,  and  kissing  her  forehead,  replied  : 

"There,  dear,  say  no  more  about  it.  I  knew  all  that 
you  thought.  That  man  Graves — I  thought  I  ought  to 
know  his  face  when  he  came  here  so  bold  calling  himself 
Hamilton,  but  I  couldn'  t  get  it  just  then — he  told  me  all 
about  you,  and  did  his  level  best  to  make  mischief,  but  he 
didn't  succeed;  and  I  guess  you  won't  neither,"  she  fin- 
ished playfully. 

"I  never  spoke  to  him,"  said  Bertha,  bewildered.  "I 
never  saw  him.  Oh,  yes,  I  did  once  for  a  minute,"  she 
exclaimed,  and  then  a  recollection  of  her  words  to  Kate 
rushed  over  her,  and  a  still  deeper  crimson  reddened  her 
pale  cheeks. 


FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL  339 

"Like  enough,  child,"  Mrs.  Brant  was  saying  indiffer- 
ently. ' '  He  could  lie  to  beat  anything  1  ever  did  see. ' ' 

But  Bertha  interrupted  her:  "I  am  afraid  it  was  all 
truth,  and  that  he  did  overhear  some  very  ugly  words  that  I 
spoke;  and  I  want  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me,"  she  said  in 
low,  ashamed  tones. 

"There,  there,  don't  say  another  word  about  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Brant,  looking  positively  uncomfortable.  "You  didn't 
know  us  then,  and  I  hope  I"  11  always  turn  out  better  on 
closer  acquaintance.  I've  been  a  young  girl  in  my  day, 
and  I'  ve  said  hasty  words  that  I  regretted.  The  Almighty 
didn't  lay  them  against  me;  and  what  for  should  I  lay  up 
anything  against  you  ?  So  put  that  all  out  of  your  head." 

1 '  I  shall  remember  it  as  a  lesson  that  I  want  never  to 
forget,"  said  Bertha  as  she  kissed  her  cousin  affectionately. 

A  murmur  of  voices  downstairs  attracted  their  attention 
at  that  point.  While  they  had  been  talking,  two  gentlemen 
had  come  up  the  path  to  the  front  door,  and  Jessica,  who 
was  near  the  window,  had  recognized  in  one  of  them  Mr. 
Guy  Atherton.  Anxious  that  her  mother  should  not  be 
disturbed,  she  had  gone  herself  to  the  door,  and  when  Mr. 
Atherton  asked  for  Mrs.  Winstead  she  asked  him  to  come  in. 

"  You  need  not  be  afraid,"  she  said.  "We  have  been 
thoroughly  fumigated  and  the  doctor  considers  us  quite  safe 
now. ' ' 

"  Do  not  disturb  your  mother  if  it  is  inconvenient,"  said 
Mr.  Atherton,  who  had  really  come  with  the  secret  hope  of 
seeing  another  person  than  Mrs.  Winstead.  "  My  friend 
has  come  to  see  Mrs.  Brant  She  is  an  old  friend  of  yours, 
didn't  you  say  ?"  he  added,  turning  with  a  whimsical  look 
to  the  young  man,  who  smiled  but  made  no  reply. 

He  was  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  young  fellow  with  a 
frank  sun-burned  face  that  attracted  Jessica 


34-O  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

"I  will  call  Mrs.  Brant,"  said  Jessica,  who  by  this  time 
had  ushered  them  into  the  parlor.  ' '  She  is  upstairs  with 
Helen.  We  are  trying  to  make  mamma  take  plenty  of  rest 
now.  She  was  pretty  well  worn  out ' ' 

"Pray,  don't  disturb  her,"  said  Mr.  Atherton  eagerly. 
' '  How  are  your  sisters  ?  I  heard  of  the  illness  in  your  family 
only  last  evening  when  I  arrived  in  town.  If  I  had  not 
been  away  I  should  liave  come  out  to  inquire  before  now. ' ' 

"Oh,  they  are  very  much  better,"  replied  Jessica. 
"Helen  was  the  worst,  but  she  is  really  over  it  now,  though 
she  is  still  dreadfully  weak.  Bertha  too,  is  not  strong  yet" 

' '  Perhaps  she  is  not  able  to  see  her  friends  yet, ' '  said 
Mr.  Atherton  tentatively, 

"Yes,  a  little,"  said  Jessica,  who  was  beginning  to  feel 
uncomfortable  under  the  close  scrutiny  of  the  stranger,  who 
studied  her  face  all  the  time  that  she  was  talking  with  Mr. 
Atherton,  as  if  he  thought  that  he  ought  to  know  her.  She 
now  turned  to  him,  and  said: 

"  I  am  going  to  tell  Mrs.  Brant  that  you  wish  to  see  her. 
Shall  I  give  her  your  name  ? ' ' 

"That  does  not  matter,"  said  the  young  stranger  in  a 
frank,  full  voice  that  seemed  to  bring  a  fresh  breeze  from 
open-air  life  into  the  room.  "Just  say  it's  somebody  from 
the  West  who  wants  to  see  her." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth,  and  Jessica  still 
stood  in  the  parlor  doorway,  when  a  rush  was  heard  on  the 
staircase,  and  Mrs.  Brant  herself  came  flying  into  the  room 
more  rapidly  than  Jessica  had  believed  possible  for  her  short 
and  rather  stout  figure. 

"Felix!"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  reached  up  almost  on 
tiptoe  to  fling  her  arms  about  the  neck  of  the  tall  youth. 
"Oh,  you  silly  boy  !  Did  you  think  that  you  would  fool 
your  old  mother  ?"  Between  laughing  and  crying  she  clung 


FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL  341 

to  him,  and  for  the  moment  both  mother  and  son  forgot 
that  there  was  any  one  else  in  the  room. 

Mrs.  Brant  however  speedily  recovered  herself,  and  with 
a  bright  color  in  her  cheeks  and  a  proud  light  in  her  eyes 
she  turned  to  Jessica. 

• '  This  is  my  boy,  Felix, ' '  she  said.  ' '  Now,  Felix,  this 
is  Jessica  ;  and  she' s  just  been  the  nicest  kind  of  a  daughter 
to  me,  as  you  know,  I'm  sure,  from  the  letters  I've  written 
you." 

For  the  moment  Jessica  looked  really  pretty  as  the  color 
flew  to  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  met  those  of  Felix  shyly 
but  with  an  expression  of  nai've  pleasure  at  his  mother's 
unexpected  praise.  She  shook  hands  with  Felix  with  a 
pleasant  word  of  greeting,  and  then  she  introduced  Mr. 
Atherton  to  Mrs.  Brant,  for  in  Bertha's  absence  Jessica  had 
been  naturally  more  in  the  position  of  eldest  daughter,  and 
she  had  improved  greatly  in  self-possession  and  attention 
to  the  little  formalities  that  had  before  fallen  to  Bertha's 
share. 

At  the  same  moment  Bertha  herself  entered  the  room. 
She  had  overheard  the  greeting  between  Mrs.  Brant  and  her 
son,  and  had  come  down  to  show  at  once  her  friendly  feel- 
ing. But  the  consciousness  of  her  treatment  of  his  parents, 
and  the  uncertainty  as  to  what  his  mother  might  have 
written  to  him,  made  it  an  embarrassing  ordeal  to  her  ;  she 
looked  ill  and  was  lacking  in  her  usual  graceful  self-posses- 
sion. 

"You  will  have  a  great  deal  to  talk  over  together,"  she 
said  to  Mrs.  BranL  "And  I  think,  if  Mr.  Atherton  does 
not  mind,  we  will  take  him  into  the  schoolroom.  It  has 
been  so  long  unused  that  he  will  not  be  shocked  now  with 
a  litter  of  slates  and  copy-books." 

Mr.  Atherton,  who  desired  nothing  better  than  a  chance 


342  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

for  conversation  with  her,  readily  agreed,  and  they  left 
mother  and  son  to  the  uninterrupted  enjoyment  of  their  first 
meeting  after  so  many  months  of  separation. 

Guy  was  greatly  shocked  at  the  change  that  Bertha' s  ill- 
ness had  wrought  in  her  appearance,  and  for  a  time  he  was 
hardly  able  to  carry  on  the  easy  conversation  that  he  knew 
would  be  the  proper  thing.  But  some  inquiries  that  Bertha 
made  concerning  Kate  set  him  at  ease. 

"  It  is  really  wonderful  what  she  has  accomplished,"  he 
said.  ' '  Of  course  you  know  how  she  felt  about  her  brother' s 
marriage  ;  •  but  she  seemed  to  put  her  own  feelings  entirely 
aside,  and  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  make  things  go  smoothly. 
His  wife  was  a  good  deal  upset  when  she  learned  of  the  way 
he  had  been  mixed  up  in  Hamilton's  schemes,  and  then 
that  affair  at  Harvey  &  Blake's.  Well,  I  confess  that  stag- 
gered me  a  little.  The  other  was,  no  doubt,  all  a  plot  of 
Hamilton's  to  deceive  Mark ;  but  this  was  pretty  bad,  and 
just  the  kind  of  thing  that  starts  many  a  man  on  the  down 
track. ' ' 

' '  I  suppose  that  a  young  man  who  has  so  much  money 
doesn't  feel  the  same  about  a  thing  like  that,"  said  Bertha. 
"  He  must  have  felt  that  he  could  easily  repay  at  any  time 
what  he  took." 

Guy  shook  his  head.  ' '  That  is  all  very  well  if  it  is  a 
question  of  borrowing,"  he  said;  "but  a  man  can't  be 
other  than  very  particular  and  exact  when  he  has  access  to 
other  people' s  money,  I  don' t  care  how  much  he  may  have 
of  his  own." 

"I  am  glad  that  you  think  so,"  said  Bertha  warmly. 
"That  is  just  what  our  mother  always  taught  us,  and  it  is 
the  way  that  Mortimer  thinks  and  feels. ' ' 

Guy' s  face  lighted  up  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  replying 
when  Mrs.  Winstead'  s  entrance  put  a  stop  to  the  conversa- 


FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL  343 

tion,  and  Bertha,  feeling  weary  and  dissatisfied  with  herself, 
drew  more  into  the  background.  Guy  was  charged  with  a 
message  from  Mr.  Lindsay  concerning  the  rearrangement 
of  the  property  that  was  rendered  necessary  since  John 
Clark' s  testimony  had  proved  beyond  any  legal  doubt  that 
Mrs.  Brant  was  the  child  of  Felix  Merrivale. 

"  I  must  say  that  I  think  it  is  a  great  pity  that  this  man 
Clark  has  turned  up,"  said  Guy  frankly.  "The  Brants  no 
longer  need  this  inheritance,  as  Mrs.  Davenant  has  insisted 
upon  making  over  to  her  brother  a  very  liberal  share  of  the 
property  that  came  to  her  from  her  father.  She  says  that 
she  knows  that  she  is  only  carrying  out  her  father's  wishes, 
for  he  regretted  his  hasty  judgment  of  his  stepson,  and 
would  have  been  glad  to  set  matters  on  a  more  pleasant 
footing  before  he  died,  if  it  had  been  possible.  It  does 
seem  a  great  pity  that  you  should  be  cramped  when  they 
do  not  need  it" 

"I  do  not  regret  anything,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead.  "The 
whole  has  been  arranged  for  me,  and  my  only  anxiety  is  to 
do  just  what  the  Lord  would  have  me  do,  trusting  all  the 
consequences  to  him." 

Her  quiet,  gentle  tone,  and  the  evident  sincerity  that 
shone  in  her  face,  impressed  Guy  singularly,  and  he  an- 
swered impulsively,  ' '  I  wish  that  more  of  us  could  feel  as 
you  do,  Mrs.  Winstead." 

"I  think  that  it  is  acting  that  brings  the  feeling,"  said 
Mrs.  Winstead  simply.  "If  we  act  as  though  we  trusted 
the  Lord,  the  feeling  is  sure  to  follow.  Sometimes  we  wait 
to  feel  right  before  we  try  to  act  right,  and  we  are  disap- 
pointed. ' ' 

Guy  could  not  divine  what  brought  such  a  flush  to  Bertha' s 
pale  face  at  her  mother's  words,  but  he  was  quick  to  note 
the  loving  glance  that  passed  between  mother  and  daughter, 


344  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

and  he  rose  to  take  leave  with  the  conviction  that  Bertha 
had  never  before  looked  so  attractive. 

"There  is  one  thing  that  Mr.  Lindsay  thinks  is  pretty 
sure,"  he  remarked.  "Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  do  not  intend 
to  press  this  settlement  of  the  property. ' ' 

"  It  does  not  rest  with  them,"  said  Mrs.  Winstead  quickly. 
• '  They  cannot  give  up  what  would  properly  descend  to 
their  son.  How  did  he  happen  to  come  on  so  suddenly?" 

Guy  only  answered  vaguely,  for  he  did  not  care  to  tell 
Mrs.  Winstead  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth.  He  was, 
in  fact,  convinced  that  this  was  another  device  of  Hamilton's 
to  make  mischief.  He  had  met  Felix  in  Chicago,  and  had 
picked  up  enough  during  their  journey  to  assure  himself 
that  Felix  was  coming  East  under  the  impression  that  his 
parents  were  being  cheated  out  of  their  rights  ;  and  he  had 
taken  the  young  man  to  Mr.  Lindsay  as  soon  as  they  arrived 
in  Harriton.  To  the  lawyer  Felix  had  poured  out  his  wrath- 
ful indignation  ;  but  the  astute  little  gentleman  had  quieted 
his  excitement,  and  had  recommended  him  to  go  out  to 
Merrivale  and  to  see  for  himself  how  matters  stood.  Felix 
went  fully  expecting  to  return  with  Guy  ;  but  the  welcome 
that  he  received  took  him  by  surprise  ;  and  when  Mrs. 
Winstead  insisted  in  the  kindest  manner  that  she  could  find 
room  for  him,  and  that  he  must  not  think  of  leaving  them, 
he  consented  to  remain.  Guy  returned  to  town  alone,  in- 
wardly envying  the  luck  of  the  Western  lad. 

Mr.  Brant  was  not  at  home,  and  the  mother  and  son  had 
an  opportunity  to  talk  over  many  things  before  he  arrived. 
The  news  that  Graves  had  been  to  see  his  mother  under 
another  name  excited  Felix  greatly,  and  he  told  his  mother 
exactly  what  Guy  Atherton  had  suspected,  that  it  was  a 
letter  from  Hamilton  which  had  caused  him  to  come  East 
so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly. 


FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL  345 

1 '  I  should  not  have  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  the 
letter  if  I  had  known  that  it  came  from  Graves,"  he  said 
indignantly.  "And  of  course  the  fellow  was  sharp  enough 
to  guess  that  Well,  these  cousins  of  yours  look  like  nice 
people,  mother.  Your  girl  Jessica  is  the  best  looking  of 
them  all,  for  the  others  are  so  pale  and  washed  out" 

' '  Bertha  has  been  ill,  and  her  -mother  is  worn  out  with 
nursing,"  remarked  Mrs.  Brant;  but  inwardly  she  was 
greatly  pleased  with  his  remark,  for  Jessica  remained  the 
prime  favorite  with  her. 

Mr.  Brant  came  in  soon  afterward,  accompanied  by  Mr. 
Palmer,  and  great  was  his  surprise  to  find  his  son.  Mr. 
Palmer  too  was  surprised  to  meet  such  a  tall,  strapping 
fellow.  He  had  almost  forgotten  the  fact  that  Mr.  Brant 
had  a  son,  and  all  his  thoughts  this  morning  were  fixed 
upon  Mrs.  Winstead's  boys.  He  was  most  thoroughly 
vexed  with  the  part  that  he  had  played  in  the  matter  of 
Mortimer  and  Mark. 

Although  it  was  evident  that  Mark  had  been  the  dupe  of 
Hamilton,  Mark's  reputation  had  suffered  seriously.  The 
death  of  Hamilton  had  relieved  him  from  the  necessity  of 
appearing  at  all  in  the  trial  of  the  counterfeiters,  and  thus 
his  name  was  not  likely  to  be  paraded  before  the  public, 
but  among  all  Mr.  Palmer's  and  Mr.  Willoughby's  acquaint- 
ances the  facts  were  more  or  less  known.  Mr.  Erskine  had 
shown  himself  both  sensible  and  friendly,  for  he  strongly 
advised  that  Mark  should  try  starting  in  business  in  a  new 
place.  His  home  was  in  Chicago,  and  he  had  many  friends 
there.  He  therefore  urged  that  the  young  couple  should 
make  their  home  for  a  time  with  him,  and  he  would  do  all 
that  he  could  to  get  Mark  successfully  settled. 

Mr.  Palmer  was  very  thankful  to  be  relieved  from  any 
further  responsibility  about  the  young  man,  and  he  at  once 


346  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

began  to  throw  out  hints  as  to  his  willingness  to  take  Morti- 
mer back  on  more  advantageous  terms.  But  Harvey  & 
Blake  were  not  inclined  to  make  any  change,  and  Mortimer 
himself  had  altered  the  opinion  that  he  had  expressed  to 
his  mother  in  November,  and  now  felt  safer  with  an  em- 
ployer like  old  Mr.  Harvey,  whose  sturdy  Christian  principle 
could  always  be  relied  upon,  although  Mr.  Palmer  was  con- 
sidered a  much  better  man  of  business. 

Since  nothing  could  be  done  in  that  quarter,  Mr.  Palmer's 
thoughts  turned  toward  Jack.  He  knew  that  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  was  likely  to  find  herself  seriously  crippled  by  the 
terms  of  Miss  Merrivale's  will,  and  the  unexpected  proofs 
that  the  Brants  were  her  cousins  ;  and  it  occurred  to  him 
that  he  might  take  Jack  in  hand  and  give  him  a  start  in 
life,  as  he  expressed  it.  This  was  what  he  had  come  to 
suggest  to  Mrs.  Winstead,  but  to  his  surprise  she  did  not 
seem  very  willing  to  agree  to  his  proposal. 

"I  thank  you  most  heartily  for  your  kind  thought,"  she 
said  gently.  "But  I  have  always  desired  to  give  Jack  a 
good  education  before  deciding  upon  any  calling  for  him, 
and  I  hope  that  I  can  still  effect  that  Mr.  Brant  has  been 
so  very  kind  in  helping  him  that  I  think  he  will  not  fall 
behind,  even  if  I  cannot  spend  as  much  as  I  had  intended  ; 
and  with  patience  and  economy  I  think  that  he  may  still 
hope  to  enter  college  when  he  is  far  enough  advanced. ' ' 

Mr.  Palmer  renewed  his  offers,  but  he  had  to  go  away 
feeling  that  he  had  been  unable  to  make  any  recompense 
for  his  wrong  judgment  in  the  case  of  Mortimer,  as  it  was 
very  plain  that  Mrs.  Winstead  did  not  intend  to  accept  his 
assistance.  Bertha,  to  whom  she  told  Mr.  Palmer's  offer, 
asked: 

1 '  Would  it  not  be  a  relief  to  you  to  feel  that  Jack  was 
provided  for?" 


FELIX  BRANT'S  ARRIVAL  347 

"No,"  replied  her  mother,  "for  I  should  not  feel  con- 
tent to  have  him  under  the  care  of  one  who  does  not  have 
sound  Christian  principles  as  the  foundation." 

Bertha  said  no  more.  She  was  beginning  to  understand 
more  fully  the  words,  "  In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge  him, 
and  he  shall  direct  thy  paths. ' '  She  knew  that  it  had  always 
been  her  mother's  motto,  but  she  was  only  just  beginning 
to  appreciate  for  herself  what  it  meant  to  consider  first  the 
will  of  the  Lord  in  all  things. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE   CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE   SETTLED 

MR.  and  Mrs.  Brant  had  talked  over  the  effect 
that  it  would  have  upon  Mrs.  Winstead  and  her 
children  if  Miss  Merrivale's  will  was  carried  out,  and  Mrs. 
Brant  had  firmly  declared  that  she  would  not  touch  one  cent 
of  the  money.  Mrs.  Winstead  however  had  insisted  to  Mr. 
Lindsay  that  all  should  be  arranged  exactly  as  Miss  Merri- 
vale  had  specified.  She  knew,  and  Mr.  Lindsay  was  also 
aware,  that  while  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  might  be  most  heartily 
willing  to  give  up  their  share  of  the  inheritance,  their  son 
might  think  very  differently. 

"Mrs.  Brant  is  evidently  accustomed  to  rule,"  said  Mr. 
Lindsay,  with  an  amused  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he  recalled 
his  former  interview  with  the  resolute  lady,  "but  her  son  is 
not  at  an  age  yet  when  he  can  legally  endorse  her  actions, 
and  he  might  at  some  future  time  resent  the  loss  of  prop- 
erty. ' ' 

The  attitude  of  Felix  on  the  night  of  his  arrival  proved 
the  truth  of  Mr.  Lindsay's  words,  and  Mrs.  Winstead  was 
glad  that  matters  were  already  so  far  advanced  toward  a 
settlement 

Mr.  Lindsay  had  planned  and  worked  to  avoid  the  neces- 
sity of  selling  the  Merrivale  farm,  and  Mr.  Brant  had  aided 
in  this  by  saying  that  he  had  decided  not  to  accept  his  sis- 
ter' s  offer  to  purchase  a  house  for  him  in  town,  but  to  con- 
tinue to  live  with  Mrs.  Winstead' s  family,  if  they  would 
consent  to  that  arrangement  He  was  very  anxious  to 
348 


THE    CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE    SETTLED  349 

undertake  mission  work  among  the  poor  in  Harriton,  but 
the  easy  distance  from  Briarley  made  it  not  only  possible 
but  advisable  that  he  should  continue  to  reside  in  the 
country,  as  the  doctor  considered  it  much  better  for  his 
health. 

Mrs.  Winstead  received  this  suggestion  with  thankful 
pleasure,  as  it  spared  them  any  search  for  a  new  home  and 
also  insured  the  continuance  of  the  care  and  daily  instruc- 
tion that  Jack  had  received  from  Mr.  Brant  The  boy  was 
being  greatly  benefited  in  his  studies  and  still  more  in  his 
general  training  and  formation  of  character  by  the  wise  and 
kindly  guidance  that  the  scholarly  Christian  man  unobtru- 
sively exercised  over  him. 

The  arrival  of  Felix  seemed  for  the  moment  likely  to 
upset  all  the  pleasantly  arranged  plans.  It  was  soon  evident 
that  he  had  given  up  his  distrust  of  the  Winsteads  and  was 
inclined  to  be  very  friendly ;  but  naturally  he  and  his 
parents  would  prefer  their  own  home. 

"Never  mind,  dear  mamma,"  said  Bertha.  "We  can 
do  very  well  in  Harriton,  and  I  shall  try  to  get  back  my 
pupils." 

She  spoke  cheerfully,  but  inwardly  she  dreaded  the  return 
to  Harriton  ;  and  she  feared  that  her  hasty  action  in  leaving 
her  pupils  so  suddenly  had  seriously  injured  her  chances  of 
finding  more,  or  even  of  regaining  the  old  ones. 

Mortimer,  who  ran  out  to  see  them  all  whenever  he  was 
able  to  spare  the  time,  took  a  very  hopeful  view  of  every- 
thing ;  for  he  was  doing  so  well  himself  that  he  began  to 
plan  to  relieve  his  mother  of  anxiety  about  the  support  of 
the  younger  ones.  But  all  these  plans  were  based  on  future 
prospects. 

"I  shall  soon  rise,"  he  said  confidently.  "Really  all 
this  trouble  seems  to  have  gained  me  more  friends.  Mr. 


3 SO  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

Harvey  and  Mr.  Blake  treat  me  in  the  kindest  manner  pos- 
sible, and  Mr.  Davenant  is  very  friendly.  Mr.  Palmer 
seems  to  be  very  sorry  that  he  distrusted  me.  In  fact  he 
said  more  than  I  ever  expected  to  hear  from  him,  for  I  know 
he  is  not  the  kind  of  man  who  likes  to  own  himself  mis- 
taken. Then  Mr.  Lindsay  and  Mr.  Atherton  always  speak 
to  me  in  the  warmest  way,  where  formerly  I  don't  think 
that  they  ever  gave  me  much  thought.  Yes,  I  shall  do 
pretty  well  now ;  and  as  for  this  new  cousin,  he  seems  a 
pleasant,  straightforward  sort  of  fellow.  I  don' t  believe  that 
he  will  want  to  make  any  difficulties.  I  do  feel  awfully  sorry 
for  Mark  ;  but  perhaps  it  will  prove  a  good  thing  for  him 
in  the  end.  You  will  go  in  to  see  his  sister,  won' t  you, 
Bertha  ? — as  soon  as  you  feel  strong  enough, ' '  he  finished. 

Bertha  consented  rather  unwillingly,  for  she  dreaded 
meeting  Kate  ;  but  she  was  beginning  to  put  resolutely  in 
practice  her  determination  to  think  more  of  others  and  less 
of  herself,  so  as  soon  as  her  mother  would  permit  it,  she 
went  into  town  to  call  on  Kate.  There,  to  her  surprise,  she 
met  the  young  bride,  pretty,  lively,  and  voluble  as  ever, 
eagerly  discussing  with  Kate  the  arrangements  for  a  party 
that  was  to  be  given  in  her  honor. 

"I  ought  to  thank  you  again,  Miss  Winstead,"  she  said 
gayly,  "for  the  great  assistance  that  you  rendered  me.  I 
know  it  did  seem  rather  mean  to  take  advantage  of  you  in 
that  way  ;  but  I  had  just  bought  my  ticket  to  go  out  to  see 
Myra  Clapp,  and  I  did  not  want  to  go  back  to  the  ticket 
office  and  set  that  young  clerk  there  wondering  by  buying 
another  ticket  for  another  place.  If  he  had  not  known 
me  it  would  not  have  made  any  difference  ;  but  I  was 
afraid  he  would  talk  and  maybe  tell  father,  or  somebody 
who  would  repeat  it,  where  I  had  been." 

Bertha  assured  her  that  she  had  been  very  willing  to 


THE    CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE   SETTLED  351 

render  her  any  assistance,  and  the  discourse  returned  to 
the  party.  Bertha  sat  quietly  listening  and  wondering  at 
the  odd  mixture  of  frivolity  and  earnestness  that  seemed  to 
be  bound  up  in  Mrs.  Mark  Willoughby.  She  also  mar- 
veled to  note  how  gently  and  with  how  much  tact  Kate 
took  it  all.  Bertha  could  divine  that  it  was  all  rather  a 
strain  upon  Kate,  but  there  was  nothing  to  betray  that  fact 
to  any  one  less  used  to  Kate's  moods  than  Bertha  was. 
After  Juliet  took  leave,  it  is  true  that  Kate  seemed  to 
breathe  more  freely  and  to  relapse  more  into  her  old  cheer- 
ful and  impulsive  self ;  but  there  was  not  one  word  of  un- 
friendly criticism  of  her  sister-in-law.  Kate  was  evidently 
starting  on  a  new  path,  and  Bertha  blushed  as  she  learned 
from  her  friend"  s  conversation  that  it  was  her  Aunt  Rachel 
who  had  influenced  her.  Bertha  was  too  honest  not  to  own 
to  herself  that  she,  in  all  her  intimacy  with  Kate,  had  not 
given  a  single  word  that  might  attract  or  assist  her  to  higher 
and  holier  aims. 

Kate,  however,  seemed  very  glad  to  see  her,  and  the 
visit  was  a  pleasure  to  Bertha.  As  she  was  leaving,  Kate 
insisted  that  she  must  come  to  the  party  which  was  to  be 
given  in  Juliet's  honor,  and  Bertha  reluctantly  consented. 

"  I  suppose  that  you  will  be  in  town  by  that  time,"  Kate 
remarked,  "as  your  pupils  will  be  anxious  to  commence 
again. ' ' 

Such  Bertha  found  to  be  the  case.  She  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  this  her  first  trip  to  Harriton,  to  call  upon  the 
most  of  her  pupils  and  to  explain  her  illness,  and  to  see 
what  arrangement  could  be  made  to  resume  and  bring  up 
dropped  lessons.  The  result  was  so  satisfactory  that  she 
determined  that  she  ought  to  lose  no  time  in  returning  to 
Miss  Halsey's,  and  she  felt  greatly  encouraged  as  to  the 
prospect  of  helping  her  mother.  It  was  a  trial  now  to 


352  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

leave  Merrivale  with  the  thought  that  possibly  she  would 
not  be  able  to  return  there  again,  except  to  pack  up  for  a 
final  breaking  up  of  the  home,  but  she  remembered  how 
willfully  she  had  left  it  a  few  months  before,  and  she  re- 
pressed all  her  own  regrets  and  tried  hard  to  show  only  a 
bright  and  cheerful  face  to  those  about  her. 

Mr.  Lindsay  was  one  of  the  friends  whom  she  met  first 
or.  the  street  as  she  was  going  about  to  her  lessons,  the  day 
after  she  returned  to  Miss  Halsey's,  and  when  he  reached 
his  office  he  happened,  in  talking  over  the  Merrivale  case 
with  Mr.  Atherton,  to  remark: 

"Bertha  Winstead  looks  thin  and  pale  after  her  illness  ; 
but  she  is  going  at  her  work  again  with  a  commendable 
spirit." 

"What !  Is  she  in  town  again?"  asked  Guy  with  sud- 
den interest  "  It  does  seem  a  shame  that  she  should  have 
to  work — I  mean,  that  they  should  all  be  cramped  by  this 
stupid  clause  in  Miss  Merrivale' s  will." 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  there  will  be  eventually  the  least 
difficulty  in  settling  all  that  quite  amicably,"  replied  Mr. 
Lindsay.  "Young  Brant  will  be  of  age  in  another  year, 
and  I  don't  doubt  that  he  will  join  with  his  parents  in  giv- 
ing a  full  release  to  the  Winsteads.  But  of  course  it  will 
be  the  most  satisfactory  if  he  unites  in  any  such  action  on 
the  part  of  his  father  and  mother,  therefore  I  strongly  ad- 
vise both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  to  let  matters  rest  till  he 
comes  of  age." 

"Mr.  Palmer  wants  to  take  up  Felix,"  remarked  Guy. 

"  How  did  you  hear  that?"  asked  Mr.  Lindsay  in  sur- 
prise. "I  should  not  think  that  desk-work  would  suit  a 
lad  fresh  from  the  open-air  life  of  the  Western  prairies." 

"I  heard  it  from  Mr.  Palmer  himself,"  replied  Guy. 
' '  And  he  has  been  trying  to  arrange  so  that  he  can  give 


THE    CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE   SETfLED          353" 

Felix  other  work  than  desk-work.  I  did  not  learn  exactly 
what  it  would  be  ;  but  I  can  see  that  he  is  very  desirous  to 
help  the  lad,  from  friendship  to  both  the  Brants  and  the 
Winsteads. ' ' 

Mr.  Lindsay  nodded  musingly  and  no  more  was  said  just 
then. 

That  very  evening  Guy  found  his  way  to  Miss  Halsey's 
parlor,  and  Bertha  was  surprised  to  find  that  a  secret  fit  of 
the  blues  had  been  charmed  away  for  her  by  his  conversa- 
tion. From  that  time  it  became  no  unusual  thing  for  Guy 
to  stop  at  Miss  Halsey's,  and  Bertha  saw  him  frequently 
before  the  day  of  Kate' s  party  arrived. 

On  the  evening  of  the  party  she  went  there  with  Morti- 
mer, with  a  very  unusual  feeling  of  nervousness  in  her 
breast.  She  had  not  met  Mark  since  the  evening  of  his 
hasty  trip  to  Harleytown,  and  she  shrank  from  meeting  him 
or  his  wife,  as  she  was  really  half  afraid  of  that  extremely 
unconventional  young  lady.  As  for  Mark,  she  imagined 
that  he  would  feel  embarrassed  at  meeting  her. 

In  fact,  Mark  had  entirely  forgotten  her  appeal  to  him  at 
the  station,  and  he  greeted  her  with  his  usual  frank  and 
cordial  manner. 

The  color  flashed  up  to  Bertha's  pale  cheeks  and  she 
raised  her  head  a  little  proudly  as  she  exchanged  a  few 
commonplace  remarks  with  him,  and  then  turned  to  his 
wife.  It  did  not  occur  to  her  that  her  conduct  was  being 
closely  watched,  but,  in  fact,  the  reports  that  had  been  cir- 
culated at  the  time  when  she  was  seen  so  frequently  with 
Mark  and  Kate  had  not  been  forgotten,  and  there  were  sev- 
eral who  were  curious  to  know  how  she  would  ' '  take  it, ' ' 
now  that  he  was  married. 

Bertha  went  about  among  her  friends  entirely  unconscious 
of  all  this  until  it  was  unpleasantly  forced  upon  her  knowl- 

x 


354  THE    MERRIVALE   WILL 

edge  by  a  chance  remark  which  she  overheard.  She  was 
resting  in  the  conservatory,  for  the  crowd  and  excitement 
began  to  weary  her,  unused  as  she  was  to  anything  of  the 
sort  since  her  illness.  Suddenly  from  behind  a  large  palm 
that  screened  her  she  heard  the  words  : 

"Oh,  she  carries  it  off  very  well.  But  I  could  see  that 
she  flushed  up  when  she  spoke  to  him  and  the  bride  ;  and 
of  course  it  must  have  been  hard  for  her.  He  really  did 
not  treat  her  right,  I  think.  He  was  so  very  attentive.  She 
was  constantly  here  with  Kate,  and  he  would  walk  home 
from  her  lessons  with  her.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  the 
musicales  were  gotten  up  mainly  to  bring  them  together.  I 
was  not  a  bit  surprised  that  she  left  town  and  was  so  ill  after 
the  marriage  came  out." 

"  He  was  hardly  the  kind  of  young  man  that  I  supposed 
she  would  care  about,"  said  another  voice. 

' '  Oh,  he  is  very  agreeable  ;  and  then  you  must  remember 
that  her  family  was  always  poor  ;  and  since  these  new 
cousins  have  turned  up  they  will  have  less  than  ever,  owing 
to  some  provision  in  Miss  Merrivale's  will." 

Bertha  had  heard  more  than  she  intended  or  wished  ;  and 
now,  feeling  giddy  with  shame  and  indignation,  she  rose 
softly  to  make  her  escape  unperceived  by  the  speakers, 
whom  she  recognized  by  their  voices  as  two  young  ladies 
whom  she  knew  slightly. 

As  she  slipped  hurriedly  and  noiselessly  toward  the 
entrance  to  the  drawing  room,  she  was  too  much  absorbed 
to  notice  that  a  gentleman  was  standing  among  the  foliage 
not  far  from  her.  It  was  Guy  Atherton,  who  had  seen  her 
enter  the  conservatory  and  had  come  in  search  of  her.  He 
had  also  been  near  enough  to  hear  the  words  of  the  two 
speakers,  and  he  hotly  longed  to  go  to  them  and  deny  every 
word.  While  he  was  thinking  he  was  startled  to  see  Bertha 


THE   CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE   SETTLED          355 

passing  near  him,  and  the  suspicion  flashed  upon  him  that 
she  might  have  heard  the  same  words. 

"Gossiping  cats!"  he  muttered  wrathfully  between  his 
teeth,  but  in  the  same  instant  he  realized  that  it  would  never 
do  to  let  Bertha  imagine  that  he  had  been  within  earshot, 
so  he  waited  until  she  was  fairly  in  the  drawing  room  before 
he  ventured  to  follow  her.  Then  he  asked  if  he  might  take 
her  into  the  supper  room,  and  from  that  time  he  did  not 
leave  her  side  for  more  than  a  few  moments. 

Bertha  had  with  an  effort  rallied  all  her  resolution  to  bear 
herself  bravely  through  the  rest  of  the  evening,  and  the  ap- 
pearance of  Guy  and  his  thoughtful  attentions  helped  her 
wonderfully.  It  was  therefore  hardly  strange  that  she  wel- 
comed him  a  little  more  graciously  than  usual  ;  and  before 
the  evening  was  over  he  had  found  the  opportunity  to  ask 
her  to  be  his  wife.  Poor  Bertha,  startled  and  embarrassed, 
attempted  to  word  her  answer  as  gently  as  possible  ;  but  it 
was  a  refusal,  and  she  went  home  sorely  vexed  with  herself 
that  she  should  have,  as  she  feared,  led  him  on. 

"Why,  only  last  winter  I  thought  that  it  was  Kate,"  she 
thought  bewildered.  "  How  can  he  have  changed  in  such 
a  short  time  ?  What  would  Kate  think  if  she  knew  ?" 

Meanwhile  Guy  was  wending  his  way  to  his  lodgings, 
moody  indeed,  but  by  no  means  in  the  depressed  state  that 
might  be  considered  proper  under  the  circumstances. 

"  Of  course,  I  knew  that  she  would  say  no,"  he  muttered. 
"But  after  the  gossip  that  she  had  heard  I  had  to  risk  it. 
I  only  hope  that  it  won't  injure  my  chances;  but  I'll  not 
give  up  for  one  refusal.  Why  couldn'  t  those  silly  women 
hold  their  tongues  ? ' '  Thus  perturbed  but  determined  he 
let  himself  into  his  lodging  house  and  lighting  the  gas 
in  his  small  room  he  went  off  into  a  day-dream  broken 
by  occasional  indignant  exclamations,  such  as  : 


THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

1 '  A  pack  of  lies  !  I  wish  I  had  told  them  so.  That 
fellow  indeed  !  I  might  have  known  that  she  would  never 
look  twice  at  such  a  man  as  he  was.  But  why  can' t  people 
mind  their  own  business  ?  Maybe  she  will  keep  me  at 
arm's  length  now,  and  I  shall  not  even  be  able  to  call 
there.  I  don't  see  any  good  excuse  for  going  there  just 
now.  But  I  couldn'  t  do  otherwise  ;  and  at  least  it  will  give 
her  something  else  besides  their  wretched  gossip  to  get 
angry  over — if  she  really  is  angry  with  me." 

Thus  it  happened  that  Kate's  party,  which  had  delighted 
Juliet,  left  two  people  in  a  very  uncomfortable  frame  of  mind. 

But  Guy  was  not  the  man  to  remain  in  moody  inaction. 
Some  matters  connected  with  the  will  took  Guy  to  Merrivale 
in  a  few  days,  and  when  he  returned  he  bore  a  message 
from  Mrs.  Winstead  to  her  daughter,  which  gave  him  an  ex- 
cellent excuse  for  calling  at  Miss  Halsey's.  Most  of  his 
conversation  was  with  Mortimer  and  Miss  Clive,  but  it  was 
plain  that  Bertha  was  not  displeased  to  see  him.  A  few 
days  later  Bertha  found  an  opportunity  to  run  out  home,  and 
before  she  returned  to  town  she  had  a  long,  confidential  talk 
with  her  mother,  in  which  she  told  her  all  about  the  events 
of  the  evening  of  Kate' s  party. 

"  I  hope  I  had  not  been  thoughtless,"  she  said  anxiously. 
"  I  do  not  see  why  he  should  have  got  any  such  idea  in  his 
head.  I  felt  so  sorry  to  think  that  it  would  spoil  all  the 
pleasant  evenings  that  Mortimer  and  Aunt  Rachel  enjoyed 
so  much,  for  I  know  that  they  like  him.  But  he  really 
seems  to  be  inclined  to  keep  up  his  friendship  with  them, 
and  I  don' t  think  there  can  be  any  harm  in  my  being  polite 
to  him.  Do  you,  mamma?"  she  inquired. 

"No,  my  child,"  replied  Mrs.  Winstead,  patting  her 
hand  ;  "just  be  your  natural  self,  and  put  the  whole  of  this 
out  of  your  mind. ' ' 


THE    CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE    SETTLED          357 

"  It  was  so  unkind  of  those  girls  to  talk  about  me.  I  feel 
as  though  I  never  wanted  to  see  Mark  Willoughby  again," 
said  poor  Bertha  hotly.  "It  is  enough  to  make  one  vow 
never  to  speak  to  a  young  man." 

"  No,  dear,  not  that  ;  but  to  make  one  very  careful  not 
to  neglect  the  warnings  that  one  receives  from  those  who 
love  one  and  can  judge  better  than  one's  self." 

Bertha  did  not  resent  the  words  as  she  would  have  done 
a  few  weeks  before,  and  she  returned  to  town  with  a  lighter 
heart 

Mrs.  Winstead  went  about  her  usual  duties  with  mingled 
feelings.  Guy  Atherton  had  had  some  conversation  with  her 
that  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Merrivale  will,  and  thus  she 
knew  part  of  what  Bertha  had  to  tell  her  before  Bertha  had 
opened  her  lips  on  the  subject  It  was  a  great  relief  to  her, 
however,  to  feel  that  she  had  her  daughter's  confidence  ; 
and  the  straightforward,  manly  conduct  of  Guy  and  his  evi- 
dent attachment  to  Bertha  had  impressed  her  favorably. 
She  was  also  greatly  pleased  to  find  that  Mr.  Brant  spoke 
highly  of  Guy,  and  thus,  with  all  her  natural  shrinking 
from  the  thought  of  letting  her  daughter  go  from  her  own 
care,  she  was  able  to  wait  with  a  peaceful  heart  for  the 
future  to  unfold  itself. 

The  arrangement  was  now  definitely  settled  that  the 
Brants  were  to  continue  for  a  year  at  least  to  be  inmates  of 
the  Merrivale  homestead  together  with  Mrs.  Winstead  and 
her  family.  Felix  had  been  looking  for  work,  and  Mr. 
Palmer  had  already  made  some  proposals  as  to  taking  him 
into  the  employ  of  Palmer  &  Davenant  At  first  Mrs. 
Brant  looked  upon  this  project  with  decided  disapproval; 
but  Mr.  Brant,  who  had  come  into  closer  contact  with  Mr. 
Palmer,  noticed  a  change  in  that  gentleman's  views  and 
standard  of  life  that  inclined  him  to  feel  a  hearty  friendship 


THE    MERRI VALE  WILL 

for  him  and  to  trust  him  as  he  had  not  done  before.  Mrs. 
Brant,  as  was  usually  the  case,  acquiesced  in  her  husband's 
opinion  whenever  he  took  the  trouble  to  form  and  express 
an  opinion. 

As  soon  as  the  summer  holidays  began,  Bertha  returned 
to  the  farmhouse,  and  by  that  time  Felix  was  installed  in 
Palmer  &  Davenant's  and  had  secured  a  room  with  Morti- 
mer at  Miss  Halsey's. 

Her  two  boys,  as  she  called  them,  kept  Aunt  Rachel  very 
happily  occupied,  and  both  of  them  gave  the  little  lady  the 
most  devoted  attention.  This  was  indeed  a  fortunate  thing, 
for  the  attentions  of  Guy  Atherton  were  not  quite  as  unre- 
mitting after  Bertha  went  home.  He  seemed  to  find  his 
way  more  frequently  to  Merrivale  and  was  not  as  often  seen 
at  Miss  Halsey's. 

The  summer  was  far  advanced  and  Bertha  was  beginning 
to  think  about  her  winter's  work  with  her  pupils  before  Guy 
felt  that  it  would  be  safe  to  speak  again  to  her  of  the  hopes 
that  lay  so  carefully  cherished  in  his  heart;  but  this  time  his 
patience  was  rewarded  and  her  answer  sent  him  back  to  his 
rather  dingy  lodgings  in  such  a  mood  that  everything  looked 
rose-colored  to  him.  The  very  next  day  he  amazed  his 
partner  by  beginning  to  make  inquiries  about  small  and 
very  comfortable  houses.  Mrs.  Winstead,  however,  wished 
that  the  marriage  should  be  deferred  till  the  spring,  and 
Bertha  was  glad  to  have  the  prospect  of  a  winter  at  home 
in  which  she  could  help  her  mother  and  sisters. 

"  I  can  take  nearly  all  Helen's  lessons,  and  Jessica  can 
study  with  me  too,"  she  said;  "and  then  next  year  Jessica 
will  be  nearly  seventeen  and  well  able  to  be  a  great  help  to 
you. ' ' 

Mrs.  Brant  was  pleased  with  this  arrangement.  She  was 
eager  to  have  the  time  arrive  when  the  matter  of  the  prop- 


THE    CLAIM    ON    MERRIVALE    SETTLED          359 

erty  could  be  settled  beyond  risk  of  change.  She  had 
noticed  that  Felix  was  looking  forward  impatiently  to  the 
time  when  he  would  be  of  age  and  could  legally  renounce 
all  claim  to  the  Merrivale  property.  But  she  also  shrewdly 
guessed  that  there  was  a  more  precious  piece  of  Mrs.  Win 
stead's  property  to  which  he  might  in  time  lay  a  claim  that 
he  would  be  very  unwilling  to  have  disallowed. 

It  was  on  a  stormy,  windy  day  in  March  that  Felix 
reached  the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  the  Brants,  who  had 
been  eagerly  anticipating  the  day,  would  not  be  deterred  by 
the  weather,  but  presented  .themselves  at  Mr.  Lindsay's 
office,  where  the  necessary  papers  were  duly  signed  and 
the  Merrivale  property  again  became  the  undisputed  pos- 
session of  Mrs.  Winstead  and  her  children. 

A  few  weeks  later,  on  a  bright  April  morning,  Bertha 
Winstead  became  Bertha  Atherton,  and  the  young  couple 
settled  in  the  cozy  little  house  that  Guy  had  prepared  in 
Harriton. 

During  the  bright,  warm  summer  months  that  followed, 
Mrs.  Winstead  frequently  had  all  her  family  gathered 
around  her  in  the  old  farmhouse;  but  when  autumn  re- 
turned the  party  dwindled,  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brant  found 
that  he  could  more  easily  continue  his  work  in  Harriton  if 
they  lived  among  the  people  in  whom  he  was  interested ; 
and  also  it  was  decided  to  send  Jack,  who  was  now  thirteen, 
to  the  Harriton  Academy.  Mrs.  Brant  insisted  that  he 
must  make  his  home  with  them,  and  of  course  she  wanted 
her  own  boy  Felix.  With  the  family  party  at  Merrivale 
thus  diminished,  Mortimer  felt  that  he  could  easily  return 
home,  and  thus  Miss  Clive  had  to  give  up  both  her  boys; 
but  the  fact  that  Bertha  was  so  near  to  her,  compensated  in 
a  degree,  and  the  little  lady  had  small  chance  to  pass  many 
lonely  hours. 


360  THE    MERRIVALE  WILL 

It  was  on  a  sunny  May  morning  about  a  year  after  his 
marriage,  that  Guy  Atherton  entered  the  office  in  Cedar 
Street  and  found  Mr.  Lindsay  and  Mr.  Brant  in  interested 
conversation. 

"A  clever  dodge,"  chuckled  the  little  lawyer.  "A  very 
clever  dodge  of  Master  Felix.  He  throws  over  old  Miss 
Jessica  Merrivale  and  her  money,  and  then  he  turns  around 
and  establishes  a  claim  to  Miss  Jessica  Winstead." 

"  But  not  her  money,"  put  in  Mr.  Brant  smiling;  "for 
we  all  hope  that  it  will  be  many,  many  years  before  any  of 
that  will  descend  to  Mrs.  Winstead' s  children  or  grand- 
children. How  is  the  boy,  Atherton  ?" 

"Oh,  he  is  doing  finely,"  replied  Guy;  "and  Bertha  is 
already  begging  for  permission  to  take  him  out  to  the  old 
homestead  one  of  these  fine  days." 

"Mrs.  Winstead  is  the  youngest-looking  grandmother  that 
I  know,"  remarked  Mr.  Lindsay.  "  But  she  seems  to  have 
a  fund  of  placid  content  that  bids  defiance  to  wrinkles.  If 
all  families  could  settle  their  disputes  as  cleverly  and  amiably 
as  you  have  settled  this  case  of  the  Merrivale  will,  my  busi- 
ness would  be  gone." 

Mr.  Brant  smiled  in  his  quiet  way  as  he  said : 

"Do  you  think  that  was  all  our  doing?  None  of  us 
were  quite  equal  to  that.  If  you  were  to  ask  Mrs.  Win- 
stead  she  would  tell  you  who  settled  that  so  happily." 

"  W7hat  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mr.  Lindsay  with  some 
curiosity. 

Mr.  Brant's  pale  and  intellectual  face  seemed  to  shine 
with  a  light  from  within  as  he  quoted  the  words  : 

"Trust  in  the  Lord  with  all  thine  heart;  and  lean  not 
unto  thine  own  understanding.  In  all  thy  ways  acknowl- 
edge him  and  he  shall  direct  thy  paths." 


A     000120583     o 


